


Us

by raelee514



Series: Alike [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, My Twist On Season 4, Season 4 Things will be picked and choosed and out of order, Sequel to Alike, still a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-25 10:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: Sequel to Alike:  A kiss is only a beginning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes on my TL since it's Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey:
> 
> What I have done with Season 4 things:
> 
> I mentioned Jimmy showing off and hurting his wrist, I believe.  
> O'Brien left and Baxter came in.   
> Thomas went to America 
> 
> Which brings us to one thing I will NOT be doing which is Anna's rape.  
> I have different plans for why Thomas went in place of Mr. Bates there. 
> 
> So, things are out of order but as you can see
> 
> Thomas will deal with Nanny West 
> 
> Further along, a few things from Season 5 will pop up. 
> 
> Ok, that helped make it straighter in mind and hopefully it didn't confuse anyone.

_Thomas._

His name was notes and sounds. It was Jimmy humming it against Thomas’ skin. It was Jimmy’s lips vibrating as he pressed his mouth against Thomas’ throat. He lifted his hand at the memory and went to touch his throat, but his livery was in the way. Reality washed over him, and he felt himself questioning if he was remembering the truth or a dream. 

It felt impossible because it was his fantasy. Jimmy coming to him in the silence of the night and pressing a kiss to his mouth. Jimmy over him and whispering the things he craved to hear. Jimmy’s voice deep and cracking with vulnerability. Jimmy’s voice choked by emotions one only shared when intimacy exists. It couldn’t be true. 

_Thomas._

The song. Jimmy’s song. No, their song. It was real. It was black and white. It was upstairs in his room, on his nightstand the first page up. He’d traced the writing with his finger tips before leaving his room for the day.

_Us. By J.B. For T.B._

It was real, and it was beautiful. It was them. _Us, _Thomas thought, and it meant more than friendship. He hoped...he hoped every night he listened to Jimmy write it. He hoped every day as he heard angry notes morph into sadness and heard clarity come into being. Thomas hoped. He hoped. But he never believed. He told himself he was a sentimental and hopeful fool. And perhaps he was but Jimmy given him the song. Jimmy whispered to him that was theirs. Jimmy entitled it _Us_ and then stole into his room and woke him with a kiss. __

__It was a memory and not a dream. But it felt far removed from what Thomas knew to be real. He wasn't given things — not good things. He swallowed, but he felt it again. The ghost of Jimmy’s lips against his throat and his name music on Jimmy’s tongue._ _

_Thomas._

It was two notes, from the song, they were played through out the entire piece. _Thomas_. Part of the main refrain, part of the question that swirled through the piece and in the end they became the answer. _Thomas._ Jimmy told him he was trying to find the answer to a question and it was his name. His name was Jimmy’s answer. 

_Thomas._

Jimmy was always his answer. Memories of the morning washed over him again. Jimmy’s mouth. His hands. The sound of him. The notes he sang when he said Thomas’ name the first time. The flicker of knowing that they shared and they stared right into each other. Thomas felt his cheeks redden, and his heart beat grew quicker. Jimmy touched him, Jimmy was a weight over him. Things he dreamed. Things he fantasized. Things he thought were wishes that wouldn’t come true. That couldn’t come true. 

_There is nothing between us, except my fist if you don’t get out of here, Thomas._

_If that’s all…_

He breathed in sharply. Older harsher memories. One stabbed him still, and the other was bittersweet. The other was him grabbing onto what he was allowed to have and nothing more. He doubted it, for a long time, he doubted their friendship could be real. It was guilt and obligation, but it shifted, it grew, and he came to believe Jimmy when he said with no prompting they were best mates. 

Friends. True friends and it meant the world to him. He trusted it after a time, something never easy for him. But he knew it was as far as it would go, no matter how close they were. Even as Jimmy touched him more, even as Jimmy spoke about the song as if it was a secret they shared — despite the whole house hearing it. He never thought, he never let him dream outside of wishes and fantasies it meant more. 

Oh, the hope burned like a great flame inside of him. 

But he knew it to be hopeless nonetheless. 

Yet. 

_Thomas._

_Thomas._

_Thomas._

He went to touch his skin but he couldn’t. It tingled, sharp little pricks like a sleepy hand or foot. His skin remembered Jimmy’s mouth against it and how it made him shiver and made him sink his hand into Jimmy’s curls and drag him up to kiss him. Hard and demanding. Thomas was greedy and rough, and he took what he could…. 

Because it was offered and what if it went away? 

He swallowed the fear rising up in his throat. Thomas sighed and realized he was servants hall. He blinked and looked around the room. It was empty. It was early in the day still — barely past noon. But he found himself with a small break in his day. His eyes fell onto the piano, and he felt his skin heat up as he remembered how he clung to Jimmy and cried. 

Was that just last night? It felt longer and like no time had passed at all. Thomas walked over and sat down on the bench. He stared at the keys and wished he knew which two keys to push. 

_Thomas._

Jimmy finished their song. Jimmy played it for him and only him last night. They cried. Together. And Thomas knew, he knew Jimmy loved him in that moment and it was too much. It felt like too much, and he thought he might shatter apart. It was bad enough he cried and clung to him but Jimmy’s face was drenched with tears as well, and that made it almost okay. But he was afraid he share too much, push too hard and he fled to his room. Emotions were choking him and scaring him. He loved Jimmy, he loved him and grew deeper and deeper as the days passed by. 

_Thomas._

He woke up being kissed. By the man he was dreaming about. By the man he was always dreaming about. The man he loved. Loved in a way that could hurt and wound him. His throat felt dry, and he shook his head. Was it real or a dream? He stared at the piano and wondered which keys because it was the song. It was the song that proved it true, and he needed the touch point. He needed to know. 

He needed to see Jimmy and look in his eyes. 

He looked at the clock. He was likely readying the drawing room for tea. Thomas stood up and made his way to the stairwell and was about to start up when Mr. Carson appeared coming down them. 

“Ah, Mr. Barrow, I was just coming to look for you. There is a parcel at the post that his Lordship needs right away. Will you please go get it?” 

“Of course, Mr. Carson,” he said and flashed a bit of a smile. 

“Good, good,” Mr. Carson muttered as he went past him and toward his pantry. 

Thomas sighed and turned around. The sound of his name as notes, pressed against his throat by Jimmy’s mouth whispering in his head with every step. _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._ The hope burning and his mind telling him to doubt. 

~~~ 

The first moment he could, Jimmy sat down on the piano bench and pressed two keys together with the right pressure, and he heard it. _Thomas._ He pressed them again and again. _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._ It filled the air, and he shook his head a bemused smile on his face. How hadn’t he heard it before? How hadn’t he noticed that was how he breathed Thomas’ name. Or maybe it was just when he had his lips against Thomas’ skin. 

He sighed. He ached to touch him again. Kiss him again. He kissed him. Jimmy smiled and pressed the keys again. He kissed Thomas and was as wonderful as he hoped it to be. Maybe more wonderful than imagined because he hadn’t known how intensely Thomas kissed. How he moved his entire body into it and buried his hand in his hair and cupped his cheek with his palm. Jimmy squirmed on the bench and hit the keys again. 

_Thomas._

It was clear as a bell. His answer right at his fingertips the whole time. He closed his eyes and wished he could kiss the sound against Thomas skin there and then. Impatience made him shift on the piano bench again, and he looked at the time. The hour made him frown, and he turned and surveyed the servant's hall. It was Miss Baxter and Molesley sitting at the table. She was sewing with her machine and Molesley was next to her, and though he had a book in his hands, Jimmy thought it was unlikely he was reading it. Miss Baxter seemed to sense he was looking at them and he found himself looking her in the eye. 

“Is something wrong, Jimmy?” 

“No,” he said, and he hoped his grin wasn’t too obvious, but it felt huge on his face. He tried to rein it in, but it felt impossible. He was worried, something was nagging at him, and he felt unsettled. “Have you seen Thomas?” 

“No,” Miss Baxter said. 

Jimmy sighed and turned back to the piano. _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._. Satisfaction filled him and accomplishment. He finished the song, he found the answer, and it’d been under his nose the whole time. It was right in front of his face, and he could touch it. Touch him. Kiss him. He wasn’t afraid of it any longer, and he knew it was because Thomas made him feel like he could brave; that he could do anything — like write his own song and put it on paper in black and white. 

_Us. For T.B._

All his music would be for Thomas Barrow he thought, and he felt his heart beat the notes. _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._. Where was he? He looked at the time again and decided to see if he was outside. But before he stepped away from the piano he hit the notes again and smiled to himself. He wrote it. He found the truth. And he knew it was all because of Thomas. 

His Thomas. 

Outside he frowned not seeing him, but he walked over to the alcove, to their spot and lit a cigarette. He leaned against it and looked up a gray sky, it looked like it wanted to rain he thought but he didn’t feel anything damp in the air. There was a bit of a wind though, and it felt nice against his face, after being stuck inside in a stuffy suit all morning and too much of the afternoon. 

But it was last night he wanted to think about…. _Us_ made them both shake with emotion. With love, Jimmy thought, and he blushed now that it was light out and he was out in the open. They shook with love, and Thomas’ eyes showed how raw and vulnerable he felt. Jimmy wanted to touch him, wanted to tell him it was safe but he closed up on him. The way he did when his emotions threatened to be too much if he let them spill over. Thomas felt so deeply, Jimmy thought and rawly. He hadn’t known how to tell him it was okay. He hadn’t known how to tell him it was okay for Thomas to let him see how much he loved him. 

“I love you too,” he whispered to the air. He sighed. He tried to say it after playing _Us_. When he rushed to Thomas’ room to kiss him, it was also to say it. To give him that. To tell him how important and needed. Thomas Barrow deserved to hear he was loved. But the words stuck in his throat, the emotion made his voice crack and it vanished. Jimmy sighed and whispered them out loud again. “I love you.” 

He wanted Thomas to hear it. He wanted to whisper that against Thomas skin and see if they became notes from the song as well. Was the whole song things he wanted to say, words that he needed to learn to say out loud? 

_Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._ _Thomas._

Four times in the refrain. At first an angry shout and then a declaration of love. 

_Thomas._

Footfalls against sand and stone pulled Jimmy from his thoughts. He looked up and there he was, walking toward him with a large smile on his face. Dimples deep in his cheeks and his eyes were bright. Jimmy felt his breath catch in his chest, and he inhaled sharply. Thomas stopped too far away from him. There was too much space, so he stepped closer and found that his voice was squelched again. 

So, he dropped the cigarette from his hand and crunched it out with his shoe and put his hand on Thomas' shoulder and squeezed. Their gazes locked and Thomas let out a breath and his smile grew wider and his dimples deeper. 

“It was real? It was real,” Thomas breathed out. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jimmy bit his lower lip and squeezed Thomas shoulder again. Thomas expression was bright and happy, but he saw something guarded in his eyes as he asked if last night was real. He wanted to shout yes, he wanted to grab Thomas by the lapels of his coat and kiss him. His eyes fluttered closed at the memory of kissing Thomas. Him moving under his body and how they nearly fell off of the bed as the kissed desperately; as Thomas took what he thought he could never have. Jimmy frowned. 

“Jimmy?” Thomas stared.

He smiled and watched Thomas light up again, his smile dimpled and perfect. He should have come to his senses sooner. This was the smile he was always trying to cajole out of him on any given day. He loved Thomas’ genuine smiles and not his snarky or smug facsimiles. He smiled back and wondered where his ability to talk went. Thomas shifted on his feet and looked around the area. Ascertaining what Jimmy already knew. They were alone. But he watched Thomas suss it out himself. He watched his wheels turn and he bit his lip again. He loved watching Thomas think. 

“Say something?” Thomas asked and he sounded a bit desperate. 

“It’s real,” he said and was surprised his voice worked. “Of course it is.”

Thomas was studying him, and he looked at Jimmy’s hand, which was firmly still on his shoulder. Jimmy squeezed it again, pressed his palm against it and thought about solid and strong Thomas’ shoulders felt. He licked his lips and nodded. 

“But…”

Jimmy shook his head.

“You aren’t….” Thomas sighed and his entire expression shut down. It shut down and a familiar wall sprung up. Jimmy was in awe of Thomas’ ability to rein in his emotions and slam them away where others couldn’t see them. So others wouldn’t know Thomas even felt anything. But Jimmy wasn’t fooled he saw through it. “You aren’t like me… or…”

“I am. I was…” Jimmy stammered. “I am…really.”

“Jimmy….” 

Jimmy stepped closer and tightened his hold on Thomas' shoulder. He pitched his voice lower. “I kissed you, remember.” 

Thomas' eyes lit up and his smile reappeared. Jimmy felt warm satisfaction curl in his stomach at the sight of it. He broke that wall down with one sentence. One memory. 

“See.”

“I remember… quite vividly in fact,” he whispered.

Jimmy met his eyes and nodded. “Me too.”

“I just…” Thomas sighed. 

“What?”

“When did… when did you…” Thomas laughed it was high and nervous. “Or, how…” he stammered and seemed to force himself to take a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice had his familiar sharp bite. “ You like women, Jimmy.” 

“I do.” 

Thomas shook his head.

“We…” Jimmy sighed. “I have secrets to share.”

Thomas' eyes widened, and Jimmy grinned at the flash of curiosity he saw in his expression. “Secrets?”

Jimmy felt the weight of the secrets on his shoulders. The years of things shoved away into the back of his mind. The lies he told himself to keep them there. The way he acted to cover them up and the harm he caused by not being honest with himself. His thoughts remained vague on the names, about the moments that filled him with shame. When he voiced him to Thomas, it would be telling it to himself as well. And they’d be purged, but he felt it all knot in his chest, and his voice broke when he spoke. “Been keeping them too long.”

Thomas’ expression softened, and he reached up and touched Jimmy’s cheek, the fingertips of his left hand against his cheekbone. It tickled, and it was gone quickly, Thomas hand back by his side as his eyes darted around the courtyard. “Tell them in your own time, you don’t have…”

“I have too,” Jimmy cut him off. “And I want it to be you. It has to be you.” 

“Has to be?” Thomas’ wide grin was back.

“Yeah,” Jimmy slid his hand from Thomas’ shoulder to his chest. Palm hard against him to be sure Thomas felt his touch. “You’re why I won’t hide from them anymore.”

“Jimmy…” Thomas' cheeks reddened and he ducked his head down. 

He moved his head down as well, his gaze on the blush then on Thomas’ mouth. His memory showing him the image of Thomas underneath him, pink-cheeked with red lips that were a bit swollen from their kissing. He swallowed and wished he could reach out and guide Thomas mouth toward his own. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t touch him here in the courtyard, and he looked up at the sky. The day was early, and there was so much to do. He wanted it to be late and dark. He wanted to be able to cross the hall and step into Thomas’ room the door locked behind him

“I keep fearing it was all a dream,” Thomas whispered as he looked up. 

His eyes were stormy gray and they shined. With fear, with hope, with love, with anxiety. Thomas felt things like no one he knew -- deeply and acutely. Intensely. He was not the cool man with an unflappable exterior that he sold to the world. Fear jolted through Jimmy as he remembered his ability to hurt him. His ability to wound Thomas. Guilt rushed through him as the past inserted itself into his thoughts. “It happened,” he assured Thomas as well as himself. 

“Might take me a bit,” Thomas laughed. “To think it could happen outside of my mind.” 

Jimmy smirked and let himself sway closer to Thomas. “Just have to keep kissing you until it sinks in then.” 

Thomas groaned his eyes focused on his mouth. 

Behind them, the doors to the house swung open, and they both stepped backward with disappointed sighs. Jimmy saw it was two of the maids. They looked at him and Thomas exchanged glances and giggled. 

“Hello, Jimmy,” one of them grinned at him. 

“Hello, Mr. Barrow,” the other tittered. 

Thomas glanced back at him and rolled his eyes. “I need to get this letter to his Lordship,” he announced and tipped his hat to the ladies before vanishing inside. Jimmy counted to five and walked past the two maids who were whispering to each other. Back inside he straightened out his posture and told himself the sooner he did his duties, the quicker the day would fade away. He was impatient, and he felt needy. He wanted to touch him and kiss him. He wanted to sing his name into his ear and against his skin. He wanted to whisper it was real into his ear and against his skin. 

~~~

Thomas leaned against the wall by the piano. He was taking a small cigarette break. He inhaled deeply and willed it to calm his nerves. He was shaking, but he was sure no one but him was aware of it. He felt dazed and daft. He felt a bit like he had too much to drink. He kept smiling, and he kept having to fight not to — no one could see him smiling like a loon. What would they think? They wouldn’t know why but they would question it because he never smiled. Not like how Jimmy made him smile. He forced his expression into something serious, something safe and he puffed on his cigarette. 

Secrets. His Jimmy was full of secrets that he wanted to share. Secrets he wanted to explain. Thomas swallowed a sigh as he remembered Jimmy liked women. Jimmy’s confirming it as the truth ringing in his mind. But he also had the ghost of Jimmy’s mouth on his throat and against his lips. He'd tasted of toothpaste and the sun. Thomas inhaled on his cigarette and cursed himself for getting stupidly poetical. The sun…. He exhaled a cloud of smoke but nodded. It was true. 

Jimmy walked into the room with Alfred trailing them. They both had silver on trays and Thomas watched them set everything down on the table and ready everything for polishing. Being Under Butler got him out such menial work — at least of that sort. Carson’s list for him was long, and he really should finish his cigarette and get back to it. 

But Jimmy was sitting at the table and grousing about the polishing. He watched him push up his sleeves before he began to polish. Thomas eyes on the definition of his forearm and he remembered. He remembered Jimmy’s arm on the bed, hand by his head, pressed down to keep his weight off of him. The muscles flexed and beautiful. He watched them now and sighed. _You can touch him._ The thought threatened to make him smile, and he tried to silence the voice that was wondering if he maybe had gone mad. Maybe he was dreaming, maybe he was asleep and last night was nothing but a vivid and beautiful dream. He watched Jimmy begin to polish a platter and wondered if those hands really had been against his chest? Yes, one just boldly pressed against it outside an hour or so ago. He still felt it. He still felt everything. He was afraid not to, he was purposely remembering every minute, every moment. 

Jimmy glanced at him and Thomas fought not to smile, but he did the minute their gazes locked. Jimmy’s smile in return was smug and knowing. It made something flip inside of him. It made it feel like something was tethering him to Jimmy and he nearly stepped away from the wall and sat down next to him. He would shove the seats closer and press their legs together. He wanted to touch and he wanted them touching. Fantasies and dreams he never let himself think about outside the safety of his bed were spilling out of his mind. He inhaled sharply and fought to settle his expression. The last thing he needed was Alfred seeing him grinning at Jimmy like he was daft for him. He was of course, but that knowledge wasn’t for Alfred. 

Thomas stepped toward the table and stubbed out the cigarette. He was too close to Jimmy, but he couldn’t resist. Maybe he couldn’t touch him, but he could brush against him a bit. He felt Jimmy stiffen for a second before he continued polishing as if nothing happened. But they shared one last glance and a bit of grin before Thomas straightened up and left the room. 

_I have secrets to share._

His curiosity was always piqued by Jimmy. He knew Jimmy, in a way that was as much instinct as a hundred conversations while smoking and playing cards. He knew Jimmy from the moment he first saw him — and perhaps Jimmy also felt that in that moment. Thomas knew him from discussions about the books they shared and articles they read in the newspapers. But more than anything he knew Jimmy through his music which Jimmy shared with him. Not only revealing a piece of his soul but sharing it with him. _Us_ was their relationship. _Us_ was their connection. _Us_ was the their creation. The building of their friendship and the revelation of Jimmy wanting him. He knew this without it needing to be said. He knew. Because he knew Jimmy. 

But he lacked details because Jimmy rarely spoke about himself. He was oddly private for one so chatty and charming. He gave smiles and witty quips but few details and facts from his life before Downton. Even his stories about Anstruther told little about him. He knew him, but there were layers and layers left for Thomas find. 

He needed an explanation about how Jimmy went from being able to only give him friendship, to crawling into his bed and promising him love. Because he had seen him flirting with Ivy and the maids. Because he had heard stories about Lady of Anstruther, he wished he could forget. Jimmy loved women, and he admitted it only an hour or so ago as true. An hour or so ago Jimmy touched him in a way that promised more and spoke of intimacy. Jimmy kept promising it was real. 

The secrets offered explanation and Thomas was impatient for it.


	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy walked into the servant’s hall, tea cup in hand, and up to the piano. The day was over and he felt an ache in all of his bones. He thought maybe it was exhaustion because of a night without sleep. Because less than twenty-four hours ago he bared his soul to Thomas at the very piano he was sitting at now. Less than twenty-four hours ago unable to keep his feeling to himself Jimmy went to Thomas. Less than twenty-four hours ago he found out that kissing Thomas felt as easy as breathing. He cursed himself, his cowardice, his stubborn refusal to admit a truth he always knew. Years. He could have already had years in Thomas’ arms. 

He set his tea cup on the top of the piano and his hands fell to the keys. He played the keys that whispered Thomas' name or shouted it depending on its placement in the song. _Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas._ He shivered and he tasted Thomas skin on his lips. He licked them as he pressed the keys again and again and lost himself to the sound. 

A gasp made his fingers still on the keys. He turned and saw Thomas at the door of the room. Their eyes met and he pressed the keys. Thomas' mouth opened and his eyes told Jimmy he heard it, he recognized the music, he knew Jimmy was playing his name. He played them a second time and Thomas eyes closed and his chest rose and fell before they opened again. He was staring at Jimmy it was intense and stormy. Jimmy felt himself shiver again and pressed the keys. Thomas moved and he sat down on the piano bench next to him but at a distance. He was nearly as close as usual when they shared the piano bench. Jimmy met his eyes and Thomas was glancing behind him at the full servant’s hall. 

Alfred and the hall boys were playing cards. Miss Baxter was drinking tea and in conversation with Mr. Molesley. Anna was sewing and Mr. Bates was next to her reading the newspaper. Jimmy sighed but he rose an eyebrow at Thomas because he been sitting closer for months now and no one would blink an eye at it. The slight shake of his head in response annoyed Jimmy. Thomas' mouth twitched up in a smile at his irritation and his eyes fell to Jimmy’s mouth. His tongue poked out ever so slightly before he pulled it back safely into his mouth. The air was charged between them more so than usual because they were both remembering the events of the night before. 

They both knew they cried in each other's arms on the piano bench. They both were remembering they’d tasted the other’s mouth and skin. Jimmy felt himself want to shift closer, close the space, bring them even closer than usual but instead it made him shift away with a sigh. Thomas met his eyes again and nodded slightly and Jimmy nodded his understanding. He huffed in annoyance and turned back to the keys. He almost played the notes again but emotion choked at him and he felt if he dared he might not be able to stop himself from staring at Thomas quite obviously. He took a breath and glanced at Thomas, wanting to play for him and he knew what to do — he started playing the lullaby, his mother’s hum in his mind’s ear and the notes soft and lulling under his fingers. He dared to glance at Thomas and he was smiling enough his dimples were threatening to deepen in a way he never allowed them to when they weren’t alone. His eyes were lit up and Jimmy swallowed at the thought he could make him so happy. Thomas glanced away from him and ducked his down and Jimmy saw him fighting to control his expression. It was thrilling to know he was a threat to Thomas’ armor. It made him feel alive. 

“I do love hearing that lullaby, James,” Mrs. Hughes said as she entered the room and sat down to drink some tea with a biscuit. 

“It’s a lovely piece,” Miss Baxter agreed. 

“If only could recall the words,” Mrs. Hughes lamented. “But I was but a wee thing when it was sung to me.”

“Mum only hummed it,” Jimmy explained but he was curious himself. More so now that he knew his song contained hidden words. He was quite sure Thomas’ name wasn’t the only word that was being musically brought to life. The whole song was emotions and realizations. It fit that words and maybe phrases were hidden within the whole of it. “Maybe she didn’t know the words either,” he added. 

“Could she sing?” Thomas’ voice was low and Jimmy wondered if the others even heard the question. He glanced at Thomas and shrugged. “I don’t know, she hummed.” 

Thomas nodded but there was more in his expression but his glanced back that room then looked away from Jimmy’s face to his hands. Jimmy started the lullaby for the second time. He could feel Thomas’ eyes on his hands and it made it think about where his hands touched Thomas. The hand on his shoulder earlier in the day because it was the safest touch he imagined could with enough pressure show Thomas how he really wished to touch him. 

“Is tonight the night, Jimmy?” Mr. Molesley said. 

Jimmy frowned and turned to look at him. “What?”

“Your song?”

Irritation ran down his spine and he felt Thomas stiffen next to him. He opened his mouth but Anna spoke. “I would like to hear it, after all, we’ve watched you write it.” 

Thomas stiffened more. 

Jimmy sighed as more people spoke up about wanting to hear it. He stared at Thomas’ profile and tried to come up with an excuse about why he couldn’t play it. It felt wrong, but he felt stuck. He wished he wasn’t in service. He wished he owned his own piano and could create alone. Or only with Thomas in the room. 

“Do you not want to play it?” Miss Baxter asked. 

“It’s…” Jimmy sighed. 

“Play it, Jimmy,” Thomas said but his voice sounded stiff to him. He met his eyes and slightly shook his head. But Thomas nodded and there was annoyance in his eyes but something else. Jimmy shook his head slightly a second time, but Thomas met it with another nod. 

“They’ve heard it all in pieces, watched your progress… Play it. It’s quite amazing, Jimmy,” Thomas’ mouth twitched up into a smile but genuine smile and he looked at the others in the room. “It’s brilliant.” 

Jimmy felt his face flush at the praise and he looked down at the keys. He took a breath and looked at Thomas again, asking if he was certain he was okay with this? Thomas nodded and he looked resigned. Jimmy felt resigned himself because he didn’t want to do this but circumstances were taking away his choice in the matter. He couldn’t tell anyone it was meant only for Thomas. He took a deep breath and braced himself. He hoped he could get through it without revealing too much of himself to a full servant’s hall. Another breath and then he closed his eyes and focused on Thomas’ presence beside him and started to play. 

~~~

Mr. Molesley was an irritation to Thomas on the best of days. Bumbling and prone to making the sloppiest of mistakes in an attempt to do them right. Always trying to do things right and never succeeding yet everyone seemed to like and appreciate him. Thomas knew he wasn’t the friendliest sort but he did his job well, better than well really and he prided himself on it. He didn’t bumble and he didn’t drop things or come up short. It was never noted, though he was used to it. He was used to pretending Molesley was just a buzzing irritant like a fly or a mosquito. 

But right now he hated him and as Jimmy pressed the first notes, he couldn’t stop himself glance back and glaring at the man. Molesley, of course, didn’t notice because he was grinning at Miss Baxter as if he won something because Jimmy was playing. Everyone else’s eyes were on Jimmy, which Thomas thought was only appropriate. Since it was a fight for him to ever take his eyes off of Jimmy Kent. 

Thomas turned his attention back to Jimmy and he closed his eyes as the angry beginning notes punched him and reminded him of the pain of their earlier relationship — or lack there of — but something else was there too and that was that Thomas was under Jimmy’s skin from the beginning. It was a heady thing to know and Thomas wasn’t sure if he even believed it but he liked to think Jimmy’s music couldn’t lie. Not when it was so much of his soul. The notes were vibrating through him and he realized it was only the second time he was hearing _Us._ It was only his second time hearing it as a song, as a finished product. The second time he was hearing Jimmy’s question and its answer. 

Which was him and he swallowed as the notes turned unsure and questioning. He felt the emotion running through them and they felt even stronger tonight than last night. His eyes dared to look at Jimmy, something he was afraid to do because he might show too much emotion. But he forced himself to look at him and wasn’t at all surprised when it hurt. Physically hurt but in a good way, because the emotion was strong, there was love and underlying anger in this playing of it. Jimmy glanced at him too and they both nearly gasped. They swallowed it though because of why… 

They were being watched. Others were listening to their flaws and vulnerabilities. The song was their love story and no one was supposed to know, supposed to see it and yet here Jimmy was sharing it. Thomas felt tears start to prick at his eyes and he fell into the notes. He jolted every time Jimmy hit the notes that spoke his name. At first anger, then confusion, then something softer and then it was love. 

The song was sliding quickly, too quickly to the part that made Thomas fall to pieces, fall into tears. The safety of the clear refrain that represented Jimmy understanding Thomas’ importance to him. It was love and Thomas felt it last night and feared it. He’d felt it last night and whispered to himself it was only friendship. But now he knew that to a be lie. It was the love he wanted and that Jimmy was giving it to him. 

_Thomas_ the song whispered and he felt Jimmy’s lips against his skin and he whimpered. Jimmy glanced at him and Thomas' eyes widened as he realized he was too affected. His eyes were stinging and threatening tears and he was afraid of what people might see as he stared at Jimmy. He tore his eyes away and got off the bench and left the room. He didn’t go far because the song was keeping him pinned. He wanted to hear the love and Jimmy sharing his soul….

Thomas gulped for air as it blew him apart for the second time. As it blew him apart harder than the night before. He wiped at his eyes and he heard Jimmy’s hand falter on keys for a moment and he knew it was the loss of him from the room. But he felt that Jimmy understood and he knew that Jimmy was able he might have run too…

It wasn’t meant to be shared. 

It was beautiful. He let his head fall back against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes as the song neared its end and his name was whispered over and over again. It was the moment upstairs as he woke up with Jimmy leaned over him and his mouth against Thomas’. Thomas' voice whispered against his skin, Jimmy’s voice choked with emotion making Thomas the only thing he seemed able to say. 

The notes ended and Thomas let out a breath he’d been holding and started walking up the stairs. He knew Jimmy would follow and he shivered as he thought about might happen when they were behind a closed door.


	4. Chapter 4

Jimmy's fingers stumbled against keys with a sudden lack of focus. He felt Thomas leave and it felt inevitable. His name was the song he was playing because in the song he was falling and falling. He was finding the answer and it was _I love you, Thomas._ Inherently Thomas understood the song's answer was love. Just last night he felt it, and he wept, while Jimmy fought his tears as he tried to dry Thomas'. 

It was their first intimacy, and it'd been front of this piano and on this piano bench. The moment was perfect and singular. It was their beginning and they'd both understood it. Jimmy saw it in Thomas' eyes that he saw now how deeply Jimmy cared for him. He looked shattered, and like his heart was bleeding, Thomas felt everything with a strength that Jimmy thought might crumble him. He felt crumbled as he played and he was trying to hold it together. But his own notes choked him. They had last night, and they were now. Because last night he found a way to tell Thomas that he wasn't alone, that he was loved -- even if it wasn't with the word itself. 

With the memories fresh and vivid in Jimmy's heart, playing the song again, it was ripping at his heart because it held new layers. It was growing, and he was playing it with different nuances of feeling. He was angry though, angry he was playing it for others, angry that Thomas was driven to leave because he couldn't let the others see how deeply affecting it was on his heart. Jimmy's hands stayed on the keys and became sure again, but he wished them to be on Thomas' cheeks chasing away the tears he knew to be falling. And maybe that fell into the last notes of the song because it held a certain melancholy. But he played the final _Thomas_ and felt alight at the hope that rang in the notes. They were at their beginning the song whispered to him. He played the last notes and turned on the stool with the intention of leaving to follow Thomas. 

But when he turned he found stunned faces staring at him. The servant's hall had fallen silent in a way he found a bit disconcerting. He noticed Mrs. Patmore, Ivy and Daisy were standing behind Mr. Carson's empty chair. All three looking at him in a way he never experienced before. They all were Anna, Mrs. Hughes, Molesley and Miss Baxter. Even Mr. Bates eyes were on him with a look of appraising surprise. 

"James that was… Quite, well, I'm not sure I have the words. Quite unexpected and I dare say beautiful," Mrs. Hughes said. 

"It was beautiful, Jimmy," Anna said with a wide smile.

The rest started to agreeing, and Jimmy felt quite out of sorts. He wasn't sure what to say, or what to do, but he kept looking at the door and wondering when he could make a break for it. He needed to follow Thomas. He started toward the door and tried to find the words to thank you for their praise, but he found it didn't matter to him. Only one opinion mattered. 

"That was right brilliant like Mr. Barrow said," Alfred said and his hand was on Jimmy's shoulder keeping him from moving forward.

"There aren't many who can play like that, James," Mr. Bates said. 

He shrugged off Alfred and nodded at everyone. "Yeah, thank you…"

"What happened to Mr. Barrow?" Alfred said looking around. 

"Going to go find him," Jimmy muttered at him and finally escaped out of the room. He felt all turned around and almost confused. Were they all that impressed? It seemed strange to him, and he thought maybe he should be enjoying their attentions more but there was only room for Thomas' opinion when it came to their song. 

It grated on him they knew. Guilt rushed through him because it was his fault they knew. They just listened to his deepest secrets spill forth in sound. They just heard him admit with music that he was in love with Thomas Barrow. It was like they all knew that now because they heard it and maybe they couldn't pull the pieces together. But they knew, he played it and felt it. It made him feel wrong in his own skin. They weren't worthy of the knowledge, they had no right to his feelings. 

He was beingunf air he thought, but he gritted his teeth and kept thinking it. It was his fault they knew it was his song, he'd been sloppy from impatience and confusion when Thomas was in America. He had been upset, he been angry and he remembers shoving the telegram at Bates to prove Thomas' ability to say sorry and Alfred seeing it. He shouldn't have brought it to the table. He should have hidden it in his pocket and tried to take Thomas' _your song_ snub personally. 

He was in front of Thomas' door, and he blinked a bit not remembering the walk up the stairs at all. All he felt and knew was guilt, irritations, and impatience. He laughed at the honesty of it -- he was impatient and he was irritated. But he was where he wanted to be, and he took in a steadying breath, knocked on the door and opened it. 

Thomas was sitting on the edge of his bed, but he stood up as Jimmy closed the door behind him. Jimmy released a breath a lot of the negative energy he built up deflating. He turned and locked the door. Thomas was right there when he turned back, and Jimmy reached up, his finger tips on Thomas' cheek against the slight stain left by tears. 

"Jimmy…"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "They shouldn't know, it's my fault."

"It's okay," Thomas whispered.

"Is not," Jimmy argued.

"No, it's not." Thomas sighed. "I wrote it down. I was angry. It serves me right."

Jimmy shook his head. "You were right to be angry, I was acting…" his fingers started to trace up and down Thomas' cheek. 

"Odd."

"Is that how you'd put it?" Jimmy pressed his palm against his cheek and stared into his eyes. 

"I just did," Thomas laughed as he leaned into Jimmy's touch.

"I was scared and giving you mixed signals. The song was a lifeline." 

"And you're not…" Thomas reached up and pulled Jimmy's hand from his face. He held his hand and pulled into his chest. Jimmy allowed the soft tug to move him. "Not scared now?"

"No," Jimmy whispered. "No."

"I am," Thomas whispered. 

"Of what? Me?" Jimmy shook his head.

"Maybe," Thomas whispered. 

Jimmy looked down at their locked hands and up at Thomas. He saw the fear in his eyes, and he wanted to wipe away. He loved him, and he should banish the fear. He opened his mouth, but nothing would leave his throat. He sighed and tightened his hold on Thomas' hand. Thomas' eyes fell to their threaded fingers, and Jimmy brought his hand up to his mouth.

It was his left hand he realized, and he pulled the glove off. It was slow and he felt his heart beating in his ears. He thought about this, doing this often, he took his time and carefully pulled the glove free and watched it flutter to the floor. Then he pulled Thomas hand to his mouth and grazed his lips over the back of his hand. Scar tissue rough against his lips and he tasted sweat and soap. It tasted sharp like Thomas, and Jimmy looked up through his lashes and saw Thomas with an open mouth and bright eyes. He kissed his hand again and again. He was kissing him, and thinking don't be scared, willing Thomas to believe there was no reason to be afraid. But there was guilt that he wasn't saying it. 

He was all choked up again. His voice pushed down by the amount of emotion. He couldn't speak when his emotions for Thomas swelled like notes in the song, while he played. His voice was music and action, but he wanted to be able to say the words. Jimmy pulled his mouth from Thomas' hand and opened his mouth, but all that came out was a whispered. 

" _Thomas._ " 

Thomas gasped and pulled his hand free and grabbed back of Jimmy's head, fingers in his hair and he was yanked closer. Thomas kissed him. It was desperate and needy. Jimmy felt those things too and realized it been far too long since they kissed. It felt like forever, and he wondered at that but not for long. He threw himself into the kiss, following Thomas intensity. 

He reached up and grabbed Thomas' collar. They kissed, and he tried to undo his collar, his tie, but the kissing was getting in the way. He wasn't about to stop. Thomas' hands were everywhere as well, he felt his bow tie loosen, and his back hit the locked door behind him with a thump. He froze and looked up into dark eyes. Thomas looked down at him and into him, his lips swollen and red. He licked his lips and pressed them against Jimmy's mouth again. Jimmy reached around Thomas' waist and yanked at his clothes. 

~~~

Jimmy sang his name every time they broke apart for breath. Thomas yanked on his clothes during those milliseconds because he couldn't keep his mouth off of Jimmy's. Not when he was singing his name into his ear, breathy and musical. Not when his hands managed to push at his clothes and find skin. Jimmy’s palms were hot, and his hands were strong. His mouth was as plush as it promised to be and Thomas took it between his teeth for a second before he soothed it with his tongue. Jimmy hummed a groan, and he sighed and thought himself brilliant to fall for a musician. 

His mouth found Jimmy's jaw, and he felt it move as his name hit the air as musical notes and he knew it would always fill his chest up with warmth and make him desperate to kiss him. His desperation to kiss him wasn't lessening, and Thomas wondered if it would. He could do this he thought as he flicked his tongue inside of Jimmy's mouth, as Jimmy ran his hands down his back under his clothes, nails scraping that it was perfect. 

It was his fantasy come to life. His breath caught, and he stepped back. His chest heaving stared at the man against the door. He wore nothing but his vest and his pants, braces fallen to the floor even with the rest of the livery. He licked his lips and looked him up and down...

A flash of seeing Jimmy for the first time and feeling blindsided. Unable to stop himself from looking him up and down. He nearly licked his lips then but stopped himself. There was no reason to stop himself now, so he did again and put his hand on Jimmy's chest, over his heart and felt it wildly pounding and he flushed and warmth settled in his gut… 

"Is this for me?" he couldn't stop the awe and disbelief from voicing itself. 

"Of course it bloody is…. How are you more dressed than me? How…" Jimmy looked himself up and down and then Thomas. "You have special skills, Mr. Barrow," he said with a raised eyebrow. 

"You’ll learn," Thomas laughed, and he batted Jimmy's hands away and pressed against him again. His hands cupped Jimmy's face, and he kissed him deeply again. The hunger winning out and he kissed intensely. Something inside of him filled when Jimmy met him with equal enthusiasm. They broke apart for air, and Jimmy laughed against his neck. 

"Will you let me get your bloody livery off completely…." 

"No," Thomas huffed and pressed his mouth to his again. 

"Mmph," Jimmy whined into his mouth, but he scrapped his nails up Thomas' spine, his hands were against skin and Thomas thought, what else mattered?


	5. Chapter 5

“We’re laying down,” Jimmy shivered as Thomas’ teeth scraped the skin over his collarbone. “I’m…” his eyes closed and he gasped as Thomas' tongue tasted the skin over his collarbone. 

“Hmmm…” Thomas breathed against his skin and Jimmy shivered. He tried to open his eyes, but they kept fluttering closed as Thomas kissed him, as he slid a hand down his chest to the side of his stomach and back again. His lips seemed glued to Jimmy’s skin. 

“Thomas…” Jimmy gasped again and found his hands on Thomas back, his vest in the way, he whined and started tugging at that fabric, and he felt a laugh against his skin and his eyes fell closed. He felt like he was spinning. 

“No…” Thomas said his breath caused shivers to roll through Jimmy. 

“What, yes,” Jimmy huffed and kept pulling.

Thomas lifted up then but not enough to pull off his shirt. He stared right into Jimmy’s eyes and Jimmy swallowed because he's never seen him like this before. Want. No lust. No surprise, Thomas was staring at him in awe and Jimmy felt his face flush. Thomas left hand was on his face, he leaned into it, felt the scarring against his cheek and shivered again — and wondered how he could, given how warm he felt, how aroused he felt by simply being wanted. It wasn’t even counting the press of Thomas lips and teeth against his skin. 

He stared right back even as his cheeks flamed hotter and hotter. This was different than what he knew. This wasn’t a lustful stupid fumble with a girl whose names he never remembered. This wasn’t the controlled seduction that been Lady Anstruther. It wasn’t anything he knew. Nothing he knew at all. 

“No,” Thomas said, and his hand moved to his mouth. Thumb pulling down Jimmy’s lower lip. “Just you, Jimmy.”

“But….” Jimmy slid his hand under the vest, pressing his fingertips, his nails, up Thomas' spine. His breath hitched beautifully, and Jimmy told himself to remember the sound so he could attempt to mimic it in notes. 

“Too long…” Thomas’ voice was strangled and low. He leaned down and kissed Jimmy. Jimmy arched up, he moved up and wrapped his arms around Thomas and pushed into the kiss. Taking it over and he grinned, instantly trying again to pull off the vest.

Thomas made a sound, and it was a lot like a growl. Jimmy's eyes flew open, and his hands were over his head, Thomas holding them and pinning him down. His expression all awe again but with a stubborn set to his jaw. “You. You were out of reach for so long, like art locked away behind glass. I could see you, hear you, smell you…but I couldn’t touch you. Never could I touch you, I didn’t dare… not after.” 

Jimmy shook his head because he never wanted to think about then, because it was past, it was so far away in their past. It was like it happened to different people. They were different. He was different, he was entirely different. 

“Shh…” Thomas’ fingers were on his mouth again. “It’s only been dreams, Jimmy.” 

He touched Thomas, anywhere his hands could reach under the fabric of his vest, gliding his palms and his fingers tips over skin and marveled at how cool Thomas felt while he felt lit on fire underneath him. 

“Let me make the favorite one true?” Thomas whispered, vulnerability shining in his eyes and the softness of his expression. Fear flickering underneath it all but his stare didn’t waver, and Jimmy’s brain whispered _brave_ as his hands found Thomas face, thumbs on cheekbones to try to touch away the insecurity peeking through. 

“Thomas,” he said because it seemed to be all he capable of and it was a note in the air, wafting around them and he saw it in Thomas’ eyes. He heard his name as sound and everything the music meant. 

“Oh, Jimmy…my love.” The words swallowed up by the kiss Thomas pressed against him, and he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. His hands on Thomas again but less rushed, less needy. He sought out skin and just enjoyed the feel of Thomas back against his palms. As he was turned inside out and dizzy from deep long kisses against not only his mouth but his collarbone, his throat, and his chest. Teeth and breath teasing and lips and tongue soothing. His name whispered in the same breath as the word love. 

His heartbeat was rushing and rushing, but over time the kisses lulled him down, everything was less want more about enjoying. Jimmy dragged Thomas back to his mouth over and over again by twisting his hand in his hair. He sighed into the kisses, feeling Thomas smile against his lips and he licked into his mouth. He felt fuzzy and hazy and possibly he was half asleep, but he didn’t care as long as he was being touched and kissed by the man over him.

“Jimmy…” his name sounded like a prayer. Thomas was leaning up and over him, his eyes glossy as he looked him and down. His eyes on his throat, on his chest and he grinned. He looked pleased and beautiful, Jimmy thought, and he remembered he loved him. It was the quirk of Thomas’ lips as he smirked down at Jimmy as if he knew a secret. 

“I…” Jimmy stammered because he wanted to say it. He knew a secret too, their secret, he loved him. He loved Thomas. The words lodged in his throat, and he felt his face heat because something uncomfortable about it twisted against him. It was big, his heart was beating the words _I love you_ but it was too quickly and too much. 

“Yes, love,” Thomas whispered, and his tongue was licking down his Adam’s apple.

Jimmy gasped and wished the words fallen out of his mouth on the breath. He was dizzy again and sleepy. He sighed and reached out, hands on Thomas' chest and gave a slight push and Thomas slowly moved away, tips of their tongues the last thing to stop touching as the kiss broke away. 

“My love,” Thomas whispered.

“Thomas….” He felt choked. 

Thomas smiled, truly smiled and satisfaction made Jimmy’s chest feel warm. He grinned back and reached up and touched his face. Thomas’ eyes closed and he leaned into the touch. Then he leaned down, their foreheads touching and they stared each other straight in the eye. Thomas groaned unhappily. 

“What?” Jimmy shook his head confused.

“You have to go…” Thomas voiced dripped with disappointment. 

“What? No? Just got here…” but he leaned up and slowly through the haze of his mind he became more aware of his surroundings. It'd been only Thomas that he saw, that he felt, heard, smelled and touched. But now the whole room came back into focus and the lightening sky was evident through the windows. 

“I know, love,” Thomas groaned. Jimmy felt him take a deep breath, then he started moving backward and away. The threat of not touching him felt too imminent, and Jimmy grabbed onto Thomas’ arms and shook his head. 

“Not yet…” Jimmy whispered. 

But Thomas shook his head. 

“Thomas,” he argued and tried to pull him back, tried to kiss him. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas' voice was hard but it was forced. 

“Come on,” Jimmy was sitting up now, they both were, and he leaned forward and kissed him.

Thomas sighed into the kiss. He let Jimmy yank him closer and ruck up his vest to touch his skin, palms against his nipples and Jimmy licked his way into Thomas’ welcoming mouth. But then he wrenched away, and his hands grabbed Jimmy’s face and he stared at him. He stared at him with disbelieving eyes and shook his head.

“What?” Jimmy whispered.

“You want me… this much?” his voice was too small for some like Thomas who was always such a presence and always invading all of his senses. Jimmy opened his mouth, this was it, he thought, this was the place where he told him. That he whispered it and even maybe sang it. Maybe it would sound like notes. 

He nodded and opened his mouth but nothing came out. It was all too lodged in his throat as the emotions that were thudding in his chest, his heart a hard and violent rhythm. It was all there, the love and the guilt. “Thomas…” 

Thomas’ smile broadened, and Jimmy wondered what he heard because that note as beautiful as it was felt lacking. Thomas leaned in and kissed him, rather chastely but it made Jimmy shiver. But it was a distraction because he was pulled to his feet and his livery was pushed into his arms. 

“Go,” Thomas said with a sharp tone. Jimmy realized he was staying out of arms reach and a glance at the window told him why. He sighed in resignation and felt irritated. “Jimmy, go. We have to be careful.” 

Jimmy closed eyes and steeled himself. He opened them and nodded at Thomas, his jaw clenching. They had to be careful. It was an understatement, and they both knew it. But he hadn’t thought about it yet. He hadn’t given it much thought at all. Not until now when Thomas was pushing him away when it was evident he rather pull him close. He watched Thomas hand clench and unclench where they swung by his side. Jimmy clutched at his clothing and took another deep breath. “I…” he trailed off because there were a million things to say but he wasn’t capable of speaking them.

“Thank you,” Thomas breathed out, and it reminded Jimmy of the day he told Thomas they could be friends. The surprise in his tone. The shock that he was being given a gift. That he was given something to be thankful for… 

Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he was overwhelmed and knew the only sound out of his mouth would be Thomas’ name. And it wouldn’t have mattered because Thomas was shoving him into the hallway before Jimmy even noticed he opened the door. 

The door shut in his face and he blinked. After a beat, he heard it lock, and the sound made him laugh. He wondered if it was to keep him from barging in or to stop Thomas from flying out. He stood there, unmoving and irritation spiked that the option to go right back in been taken away from him. 

He glared at the door and turned. His legs felt wobbly underneath as he walked down the hall and across it into his room. It looked oddly big and oddly empty. Usually, it felt cramp and nearly claustrophobic, but now it was empty. Too empty. He dropped his livery into a chair he had in the corner and turned toward his water basin. He was flushed, been flushed and he knew if he kept thinking about the way Thomas kissed him, the way Thomas been touching him that he would remain so… 

They would all think he had a fever and that worried him. Thomas words in his mind again about them needing to be careful. Jimmy clenched his jaw at that reality again and shook his head. He rather remember the kissing, but he splashed the water against his face in an attempt to cool himself down. He better try to sleep, get some in before the morning hit completely. He grabbed his hairbrush and turned his mirror to see what damage Thomas’ hands made of his hair. 

He dropped the brush in shock. He stared, his eyes widening and widening. Three vivid red marks marred the skin over his collarbone, bright pink against the gold of his skin. His cheeks burned, and he watched them turn the same color as the bruises. “That bastard…” Jimmy whispered and felt his heart speed up again, the memory of the kisses, Thomas insistence of never leaving his place over Jimmy and pushing him down. Making him drunk from the touches and the whole time marking him.

“Thomas…” Jimmy grinned as he stared.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder my TL stopped matching the show around the time of the fair and kind of doing my own weird order/twist on season 4 (and probably a tiny bit of 5). but yeah AU as AU gets with me playing with canon stuff for fun :D 
> 
> Hopefully, that made sense.

Thomas worried. He flexed his left hand a few more times and adjusted the glove and glanced at himself in the mirror. He licked his lips and thought about what he’d done. His cheeks went pink in an instant, and he looked down but he smiled. He smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t be blamed for it, he thought. Anyone in their right mind would do the same thing if Jimmy Kent was writhing underneath them. If Jimmy Kent was offering his body, his kisses and touches. If Jimmy Kent looked at them like were something worth wanting….

Thomas inhaled sharply and doubt crept into his thoughts, but his memory was sharp and vivid. He stared at Jimmy’s face the whole night. Stared to study. Stared to memorize. Stared so it would remain, burned in his memory, easy to access and bring to mind. It might be taken away, he thought and flexed his hand again. He might be taken away and he needed to remember. All of it, every bit of it. And while Jimmy was his he would make sure he was hard to forget…. Or at least try to make himself unforgettable. 

He remembered the look and it was real. It was Jimmy’s eyes dark and wider than he’d ever seen them. It was the shade of red his blush took and how his smile tilted to the left in a way that made him more handsome than ever — he hadn’t thought that possible. Though Jimmy was always making things Thomas thought impossible possible. For now at least. The look was want, pure and simple want, but it was also amusement and a bit of awe — which was the most surprising to Thomas. No one looked at him with awe. 

Or with...

He shook his head and closed his eyes. No. Focus on the now and the moment. No reason to worry more than is needed to keep the memories vivid. He smiled again and thought again that no one would blame him. No, no one could blame him for marking Jimmy Kent up with his mouth and tongue. His skin tasted salty and earthy and made him think of the summer days when he was a child and thought all things possible. 

 

Possible. Thomas laughed at himself a bit and adjusted the glove again. He worried at what Jimmy might think, what he might make of what he'd done but he wasn't going to apologize for it. He didn't think he'd need to but… Jimmy wasn't used to some things, even with the stories Thomas forced himself to listen to about Anstruther. No Jimmy wasn't used to such things but he wasn't naive to them either. 

His cheeks reddened further, and he shook his head and tried to curb smile threatening to form. He was pleased with himself and surprised with himself. It wasn't quite what he'd set out to do, he'd just wanted Jimmy under him. He just wanted to taste his skin, his throat, his neck and his chest and touch him. He wanted to slow them down and savor. There was time, for as much as he feared it being short, there was time, and he wasn't…

It was all too important. 

No, he had never marked a man before, the rest weren't special, they were all strangers. They were all just someone who could offer Thomas something but it wasn't intimacy or love. Philip, he deluded himself into caring about -- or maybe he had cared. He couldn't remember past the awful ending any longer, but even if real feeling been involved his ambitions been the biggest factor. No, he never marked the Duke, or Wyatt, or any other man met in the London. 

There were no men like Jimmy. His fantasies were simple. They'd always been simple because he hadn't dare dreamt too far or too much. He'd ached enough knowing he could never touch him. Only now he could, and it was such a turn, it still felt quite impossible. He was confused too, still, he couldn't quite help that because it was sudden.

So sudden. 

But he couldn't deny it was real because he'd fought the man underneath him. To keep him from dragging them into the places Thomas wanted to be but was afraid to fall into too quickly. Because they'd argued and laughed and he tasted sweat and cigarettes. In his dreams, it was sun and grass and hazy things that faded on waking. 

Nothing was fading now and he would make sure it never would. 

The knock on his door didn't startle him but it not opening right afterward did, and he stared at his door confused until Jimmy's laughing voice called out, "Unlock the door." 

Oh. He'd locked it, and he laughed now remembering it all. Bodily shoving Jimmy out of the room and the intense urge to follow him, push him all the way into his room and find out what it felt like to be over Jimmy in a different bed. It'd been a ridiculous and a stupid thought, and he knew he couldn't but his bones ached to do it and he missed him, despite just having Jimmy's tongue in his mouth. So he'd locked the door and known it best when he heard Jimmy laughing on the other side the door. 

He moved and opened the door. Jimmy took his breath away and he stood there mouth hanging open and stared. He was being stared at too and somehow that made him less self-conscious of the blush on his cheeks. He smiled a bit more than he wished but stopping it was difficult. Jimmy grinned back no attempt to hide it at all, and his cheeks were quite pink, but he brushed by Thomas into the room like it was no different than any other morning. 

"Going to help me with this or not?" Jimmy asked indicating his bow tie. 

Thomas huffed as he turned. "You're perfectly capable of doing it yourself."

"No, no, I'm not, Mr. Barrow…"

Thomas closed the space between them and his eyes dropped down. Down to where underneath layers of livery where Jimmy's collarbone lay and the marks were. His marks. Made by his mouth. He licked his lips. 

"Something distracting you, Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas' eyes snapped up to meet Jimmy's gaze at the question and at the forced nonchalance of Jimmy's tone because his voice dropped too low and there was nothing casual about the question. 

"Now, what would have me distracted?" Thomas lied and started tying, despite that rational part of his mind informing him that they really should quit this practice. It was probably asking for trouble, and there was no reason any longer to keep it up. Jimmy's reasons for starting this ritual no longer existed. But he tied it anyway and then let his hands drop to Jimmy's chest and if his right hand landed where he knew the marks were and pressed down a bit harder than needed…. Well who could blame him? Not Jimmy because his breath hitched and Thomas allowed his mouth to quirk up into a smirk. He brushed down his chest a second time and nodded. "All set." 

"Yeah," Jimmy nodded and looked down. When he looked up, Thomas felt his breath leave him. Again. He wondered if he would ever get used to him, used to Jimmy being preternaturally handsome and somehow always in his space? When had this happened and what fluke of luck allowed him to have it? He stared and wondered. 

"Stop," Jimmy sighed.

"What?"

"Thomas…." Jimmy hummed.

Arousal and need rushed through him and something more, that emotion he was unable to deny. Love. Love. Jimmy shouldn't say his name like that in daylight, and he opened his mouth to tell him not to, to be careful, not to do it where others might hear. Because if they heard the notes, they'd know, they'd know what was happening and that could never happen. 

"Oi," Alfred stuck his head in the room. "You two coming?" 

The both turned toward him, and Thomas was afraid his heart might burst from his chest. They shouldn't be in his room like this, they shouldn't be standing so close, and they shouldn't be doing intimate things like Thomas tying his bow tie. 

"Of course," Jimmy laughed and started forward. He slapped a hand on Alfred's shoulder and didn't turn back as the two of the left the room. Alfred started talking to Jimmy about something, Thomas couldn't catch the words, and he didn't really care. It was obvious though Alfred thought little about what he'd walked in on. In fact, he hadn't thought he walked in on anything, he was just there because his room was right across from Thomas'. It wasn' the first time he poked in while Thomas was tying Jimmy's tie. 

"No one knows," Thomas said.

~~~

Alfred started nattering on about what he planned to do for his upcoming half day. It was of course about food and cooking, and Jimmy stopped listening before they were halfway down the stairs. But his heart calmed down in his chest because for the first time since he started having Thomas tie his bow tie it'd worried him when Alfred poked his head in. It hadn't before and he wondered at that now. But then again his nerves had been frayed all to hell the other times. He really wasn't having an easy time tying it himself, and he needed his dose of Thomas to steady his nerves and help him focus on why the song was so important. It was for Thomas. For them. His focus wasn't outward, it couldn't've been because every thought at the time was Thomas and the song. 

It still was, it still was, but it was more now. _Us_ being played made them an us. He and Thomas were an us. He grinned, and his hand flew up to his collarbone and pressed. He felt them, they ached and tingled. The memory of Thomas' teeth and soothing tongue made him gasp. 

"What?" Alfred gave him a look.

"Nothing," Jimmy lied.

He could have tied his own tie but he hadn't wanted to. He wondered how often Alfred poked his head in before Thomas went off to America. But he couldn't put it together. He glanced at Alfred, and he was oblivious, he was yammering on and on, not noticing that Jimmy wasn't listening to him at all. It was good, wasn't it? Alfred being clueless, it was great, it was his main state of being. Jimmy nodded and grinned a bit. It wasn't anything to worry about. He could keep going to Thomas every morning. It would have to make up for leaving him every night. 

~~~

Jimmy fiddled with his deck of cards at the table and glanced at the clock. It was late but not late enough for him to be getting impatient. But he was nonetheless. Very impatient. He'd seen only glimpses of Thomas throughout the day, their paths not crossing at all. So his only social interactions had been Alfred, Ivy, and Daisy. He’d flirted with Ivy out of habit more than anything and then felt guilty about it immediately. Though he wasn't quite sure why he felt guilty -- it'd never meant a thing, and it annoyed Alfred. Thomas liked an annoyed Alfred. 

"So, what do you think?"

Speaking of Alfred. 

"About?"

"This," Alfred pushed a piece of paper at him.

Jimmy took it and saw it was clipping from a newspaper. "Cooking classes?"

"A test, you see, to be trained to be a chef." 

"Oh," Jimmy made a face and handed it back.

"Think I could do it?"

"Of course you could," Anna said from her seat at the table.

Jimmy felt relief because she'd just gotten him off the hook. He looked a the time again and started to shuffle his cards just for something to do.

"I'm not sure I should do it… or that I can."

"Believe in yourself Alfred, we do… don't we Jimmy?"

Jimmy looked up, swallowed his sigh and nodded. "Sure." 

Anna gave him a reproachful look, but he shrugged what did she expect him to do, hold Alfred's hand. He kept shuffling his cards and forced himself not to look at the clock because not even a minute could have gone by since the last time he looked at it. Time was being slow and annoying. He wanted to talk with Thomas, or at least see him for more than one second. 

It was hours yet before they could make their way to Thomas' room together, close and lock the door -- with them both on the same side of it. He wanted underneath him again. He wanted to get his vest off of him -- at the least. He wanted things that made him blush, and he realized he felt flushed and sat up straighter in his chair and tried to move his thoughts away from being alone with Thomas. It was a hard thread of thinking to stop though, and his hand went to his collarbone, and he thought of the bruises there. He’d thought about them all day long, felt them even, and he closed his eyes. 

"Jimmy, are you okay?"

"I’m fine, Anna," he said and cursed himself. 

"You seem flushed?" she said and was looking at him with real concern. Too much of it really and he shook his head at her. "It’s just last time you had a fever…"

He blushed deeper for different reasons then and remembered how he rushed the piano with no thought about how it might look when the whole of the song finally appeared inside of his mind. He shook his head. "That won't happen again," he said. 

"If you're sure."

"Quite," he said. 

"Okay."

Jimmy turned meaning to go back to his cards, but something made him look toward the entrance to the room and Thomas glided right into sight. He grinned at him, unable to stop himself but he wasn't worried what people might see in it. He’d been smiling at Thomas' entrances for a long time now, and everyone just thought it was a sign of their friendship. His brow furrowed a second later though because Thomas looked irritated and was focused on lighting a cigarette. He was about to say his name when Thomas looked right at him. He watched the irritation flicker away and a bit of smile happened at the corner of Thomas' mouth, and his cheeks seemed to pinken. But then the irritation came flickering back and Thomas motioned for Jimmy to follow him. 

Seconds later Jimmy found himself being handed a lit cigarette outside as Thomas scowled at the ground. "What is it?"

"It’s the nanny."

"What?" Jimmy shook his head. "The nanny?"

"Yes."

"What about her? Besides that sour expression that always seems to be on her face."

Thomas blew out a large cloud of smoke. "Not sure but it's something. Heard Miss Sybbie crying."

"Well, she's still a baby…" 

"That wasn't it." 

"Okay? And how do you know?"

"It wasn't…" Thomas scowled. "I’m going to be keeping an eye out on her." 

"Nanny West?" 

Thomas nodded and dropped the cigarette having already sucked it down. 

"All right. Guess, I'll keep an eye out too."

"That’ so?" Thomas asked, and Jimmy felt his eyes on him. Thomas was really looking at him now and he grinned. 

"Yeah."

Thomas ducked his head down, and Jimmy enjoyed watching him try not to smile. He looked around and dared to step a bit closer. "I barely saw you today."

Thomas looked up and met his eyes. His cheeks were pink, and his eyes dipped down to Jimmy's chest. "Always hated Wednesday's because of this." 

"What, every Wednesday is like this?"

"Every Wednesday."

"Well, sod that," Jimmy snapped. "We gotta work around that."

Thomas laughed, and Jimmy felt like the sound hurt his chest. He ached to touch him, and his hand started to move toward him but Thomas' eyes landed on the motion, and he shook his head sharply. Jimmy froze for a moment, and he looked at Thomas shoulder, where he wanted his hand to be and sighed. 

"Patience has its rewards," Thomas said.

"Never been good at patience."

Thomas' mouth curved up into that secretive smile of his. "We'll work on that."

Jimmy swallowed and was certain that was both a threat and a promise.


	7. Chapter 7

Thomas fixed his glove as he made his way down the staircase. It was his last official trip down the stairs. He frowned as he heard two discordant notes sound from the direction of the servant’s hall. He stepped inside and found that it was quite full. Alfred was playing cards with the hall boys, both the Bates’, as well as Miss Baxter, were at the table doing mending. Mrs. Hughes was sitting with a cup of tea and chatting with Mr. Carson in that quiet way they had that made Thomas wish for less of an imagination. 

But his focus was Jimmy. He kept him in his peripheral as he went to the diary to set to put down his last notes of the day. He was at the piano but only his right hand was on the keys, and he kept hitting a series of discordant notes rather lazily. He looked bored, Thomas noted as he brought a cigarette to his mouth in a slow motion and glanced to his side. Toward the card game but he made no move to offer to join in and play. Thomas noted they weren't using Jimmy deck but the ratty pack of the cards that had been in the servant’s hall since the day he’d arrived at Downton Abbey -- far too long ago. 

Thomas frowned and immediately pushed away thoughts of his age, his eyes landing on the back of Carson's head and told himself he would never be that old. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter as he made his way over to the rocking chair. He fell into it as he lit the cigarette and settled his gaze onto Jimmy’s profile. He looked exasperated and Thomas wondered if it had to do with the discordant sounds he was making. Jimmy lifted his cigarette to his mouth and Thomas copied the motion without realizing it. As he pulled the cigarette away Jimmy’s eyes fell onto the clock, and then they darted toward the rest of the room. 

His face lit up into a grin, and Thomas felt his throat go dry as he met Jimmy’s stare. “What will be Mr. Barrow?” he asked as he put out the cigarette. 

“Whatever crosses your mind, Jimmy,” Thomas answered, and it was a lie. He wanted their song, he wanted to hear it again. And again. It would always show him something new, Thomas thought. It might help him understand how Jimmy Kent was looking at him as desirable. It held the answers, wasn’t that what Jimmy was always saying? But the room was too full. It would always be too full, and he wished he could banish them all. He covered a sigh by inhaling on his cigarette. He was used to things not being fair, for having to make concessions and living without. He lived without everything for so long it was all he knew. 

Jimmy was staring at him and he licked his lower lip before looking away. Pink tongue against pinker lips reminded Thomas that it was no longer true. He wasn’t without anymore. There was Jimmy. There was the piano, and there was their music. Even if it wasn’t their song, there was the music. He met Jimmy’s gaze, and the question was there in his expression. What did Thomas want him to play? Thomas watched a flicker of anger spark in Jimmy’s eyes, followed by a clenched jaw. He wanted to play it too, but it was also the last thing he wanted to play. 

Too many ears. 

They heard it once as it was and that was too much.

Thomas flexed his left hand and sucked on the end of his cigarette. He nodded at Jimmy to do as he pleased with the piano. He was okay with whatever else Jimmy chose to play. His mother’s lullaby, some new song that was being played in the pubs, the scale — it wouldn’t matter to Thomas. He would be satisfied with Jimmy’s talents because only he could truly coax out a good sound from the old piano. 

The discordant notes sounded again. Thomas frowned as they played again and again. He studied Jimmy’s profile which was bent toward the keyboard. His left hand joining the right and there were added notes, but it was all unsure and not all that melodic. Jimmy was sitting casually, playing casually but there was a set something in his jaw that Thomas recognized. 

He was thinking. 

Thomas smiled. His clever boy was thinking — what was it that was rolling through his mind. What was it that was creating those choices on the keys? Jimmy was impulsive, he would fall in the direction of the wind and adapt to what was going on around him. He wasn’t known as thoughtful, but Thomas knew him to be. At least when it came to the piano, to music, Jimmy never hit a note without some form of intent. Which made him frown. Why were the notes so jarring? Jimmy no longer looked frustrated and hadn’t since he locked eyes with Thomas. Something warm and unfamiliar rose up in his chest at that thought, but his confusion grew as Jimmy’s notes clashed against each other. 

“James, I think that is quite enough of that,” Mr. Carson’s voice boomed. 

Jimmy lifted both his hands off of the piano and irritation at Carson and clenched his jaw.

“Why don’t you play us a song?” Anna requested. 

“Yeah,” Alfred said. “Or play cards with us, ey?” 

Jimmy glared at Alfred. “Sure, Anna…” he muttered and started to play some old familiar tune Thomas thought was rather bland. But everyone in the servant’s hall seemed to smile at the sound of it and a quiet settled over everyone but the card players. Thomas sighed and reached for the newspaper, Jimmy played another quiet but bland song after the first and then another. Slowly as he played, more and more people stood up and left the table. 

Thomas blinked as he put down the newspaper, surprised to find them alone. His movement seemed to have clued Jimmy in on the fact because the discordant notes started up again. Thomas frowned and he made his way to the piano and slipped onto the piano bench with Jimmy. 

“What is this?”

“New question, I guess…” Jimmy shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s quite awful, though, isn’t it?”

Thomas opened his mouth to agree but he stopped short. Their gazes locked and Jimmy’s fingers slipped on the keys, and his mouth turned up in a wide smile. 

_Thomas_ Jimmy played instead of his new question. Thomas' eyes slid shut, and he let out a sigh. Jimmy played the notes again and again. Thomas felt Jimmy’s leg press against his — more and more. Their arms pressed together and their shoulders. Jimmy kept playing the notes but all Thomas heard was how they’d sounded on Jimmy’s tongue. Breathy and needed, and something that scared Thomas. Because he wanted it. He wanted it. 

“I hate Wednesdays,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas realized his eyes fallen closed and he opened them to see Jimmy smirking at him. “Do you?”

“Yes. Everyone is always around, breathing down my neck. Carson is on the warpath dusk till now…. And I barely see you, and when I do, I can’t do what I want.” 

“What do you want?” Thomas asked and his breath caught in his throat, and he wished instantly he hadn’t asked. It felt too real, and his head ducked down, and he stared at the keys. Why discordant notes?

“What do you think?” Jimmy’s voice was low and direct. Thomas lifted up his eyes and met his gaze and met want. Jimmy stared at Thomas' mouth and licked his lips. “I want you marking me again.” 

Thomas gasped and then swore. As his eyes darted all around them, making sure they were alone, terrified they weren’t because Mrs. Hughes or Mr. Carson could easily still be around. Mrs. Patmore could still be in her kitchen, setting things to rights for the night, readying it for yet another breakfast. “Don’t…” he shook his head and glared sharply at Jimmy.

“No one is here,” Jimmy laughed but kept his voice low and shook his head. 

He was blushing, and he saw Jimmy was too, and he found it was what he wanted to do. It was what he wanted to do since the minute he pushed Jimmy away in the pre-morning hours. His face felt hot, and he reached out and undid Jimmy’s tie as easily as he tied it up all those hours ago. “Twenty minutes.”

“Shorter than that…” Jimmy laughed. 

He shook his head in return because he wouldn’t argue with him. Not on that. Thomas stood up and made his way out of the room. As his foot hit the first stair he heard his name played in quick succession three times. It made breath catch in his throat, and he stalled a bit as few steps up and listened to the notes. But it shifted from his name to the new clash of sounds, and he felt his throat go dry. Worry niggling at him, and he started walking up the stairs more swiftly. 

It was fine, he told himself. He was going to follow. It would likely be ten minutes and not twenty. Jimmy was going to barge into his bedroom, and he could touch him. Thomas shivered because Jimmy wanted him to mark him and the marks been there all day. In the two short interactions, in the passing glances, the both of them knowing they were there. Thomas felt light inside to know that what he had done been okay, that he hadn’t pushed Jimmy too far with such an action. But he also felt foolish for worrying, and he felt foolish now because he was worrying.

He sighed as he closed his door and started to strip himself down. He splashed himself with water from his basin and slipped on a pair of blue pajama bottoms. He held the shirt in his hand, just held it. The air against his chest and stomach feeling cool and it was a sensation he was unused too. But there was no need to cover up, was there? 

Notes clashed in his head and Thomas sighed. He was unsure, he was in a state of constant surprise. All of it felt strange to him. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, and he dropped the pajama top onto a chair and walked over to his bed, he opened the drawer of his nightstand and looked at the song. It lay there, the title bold and simple. _Us._ The inscription proclaiming it was for him. T. B., Thomas Barrow. He gulped at the strangeness of that because such gifts were past his imagination. Yet… 

He was confused. 

The door opened. 

Thomas leaped from where he was sitting. Jimmy walked in wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms. He closed the door behind him and clicked the lock. He looked passed Thomas and into the drawer and grinned. “I could…” he said but shook his head.

“You could what?”

“Write your name.”

“What?”

“It just came to me…” he reached down and picked up the pen that still lay with the sheet music. He flipped to the second page of the song, bent over the papers and wrote Thomas’ name down underneath two notes. 

“So, those are…”

“The notes.” 

Thomas stared at it and thought it was bold. It was dangerous. His name and not his initials on the sheets of music. It was Jimmy’s creation, but it was Thomas’ name. 

“That was okay…” Jimmy sounded unsure.

“Yes, yes…” Thomas nodded and their gazes locked. “Yes.” 

Jimmy nodded, and it was then Thomas' eyes fell to his collarbone. Jimmy licked his lips and pressed his hand against Thomas' chest. Over his heart and he realized his heart was hammering far too fast. He licked his lips and reached up, his hand circling Jimmy’s wrist, and he meant to pull it away. He meant to push Jimmy away a bit and put some distance between them. Not at a lot, just enough because there was something about closing distance. His eyes roamed Jimmy’s face, his throat, his chest, the marks… 

They were brighter than Thomas expected, and he felt his stomach flip. He done it but he was surprised by it, and he ended up pulling Jimmy’s hand to his mouth and kissing the inside of his wrist and his palm. Jimmy's eyes fluttered closed and he gasped. 

Thomas pressed his mouth against Jimmy’s wrist again and pulled him forward and with him and then they were both sitting on the edge of the bed. He faced him and kissed his fingers. His hand was beautiful, Thomas thought, it was meant to play music and create life out of sound. 

“This isn’t…” Jimmy laughed. 

“What?” Thomas lifted his eyes up to look at Jimmy. 

“Never knew you could… that…always thought it was about mouths and skin, that was about our cocks and…” 

His insides flipped the sound of cock on Jimmy’s mouth, his voice, the way it was always threatening to be music. How it was when he said Thomas’ name, and he swallowed. “It is that.”

“But it’s this…” Jimmy shook his head. “Not impatient at all to kiss you, not when you’re sucking my fingers like that…” 

Thomas grinned, he saw the dilation in Jimmy's eyes as he pressed lips around two of his fingers, his fingers stroking the back of Jimmy’s hand. “You remember, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Undoing me by pressing these fingers against my scar, rubbing into my palm and stroking your thumb just like this…” 

“Shit,” Jimmy whispered. “I remember.”

Thomas smirked. “What can you do when you try?”

“We should find out,” 

Thomas wrapped his mouth around two fingers, he watched Jimmy's eyes flutter shut and then open again. He pulled his hand away from Thomas, slowly there was hesitance, and his skin dragged against Thomas’ lips. Jimmy reached out with his other hand and palmed Thomas’ cheek, nodded and leaned forward. Their lips brushed and Thomas felt like he was floating. 

It was soft and slow, but insistent. Jimmy pressed forward, two of their hands threaded together in a tight hold. Thomas other hand reached out and grabbed Jimmy’s bicep, and his free hand moved into Thomas' hair, pressing against the back of his head. Pushing Thomas into the kiss and their mouths opened, tongues licking against lips and pushing through teeth. They kissed at a slow but intense pace until the need for air broke them apart. 

Jimmy grinned and pressed forward. Jimmy’s entire body was bowed toward Thomas in want, his blue eyes bright and his mouth turned up in a knowing smile. Thomas shivered and gasped. And leaned back, making Jimmy chase him, and he squeezed Jimmy’s hand in his and shook his head. 

“What?”

Fear settled in Thomas' gut, it was loud and made him uncertain. He was afraid to ask but he was more afraid to stay silent. He was confused. “Why?” 

Jimmy shook his head. 

“No. How?” Thomas sighed. “Jimmy you need to tell me how this is real.”


	8. Chapter 8

Jimmy kissed Thomas, pushing into his space wanting to push down onto the bed and crawl over him and kiss him deeper. Lick the cigarettes and toothpaste off of the roof his mouth and taste him. Taste Thomas. But Thomas leaned away, and Jimmy tried to chase forward, but Thomas kept himself out of reach and squeezed his hand. It stopped him, and he met Thomas' eyes and hated what he saw. He was doubting again and looked confused. Jimmy hated the doubt, it made him want to yell, and it scared him. Thomas' expression was the type of confusion he couldn't kiss away. 

"What?"

"Why?" 

He started shaking his head because he didn't know how to start.

"No. How? Jimmy, you need to tell me how this is real."

Jimmy closed his eyes. Memories and thoughts rushed through him. Things he expected to tell Thomas already. Tell him he loved him, tell him all the secrets that he held. Because he wanted to tell Thomas and maybe in a way he needed to tell Thomas. He heard the clash of notes he been playing downstairs flare to life in his head. This wasn't something Thomas should have to ask for because Jimmy wanted to share it freely. All of it. But he hasn't said the words. He hasn't said _I love you._ He has hummed Thomas' name, and he has kissed his mouth and tasted his skin. He’s been marked by him and been kissed with a hunger he hopes never gets quenched. Jimmy stared into Thomas' eyes and willed the words to come but nothing left his throat. 

"Jimmy?"

"I…" he let out a long breath. "I want to tell you." 

"Then please do," Thomas' voice was raw. 

Jimmy squeezed the hand he was holding and stared into clouded gray eyes. "I don't know how to start… It's things I've shoved away and buried." 

"Jimmy?" Thomas's eyes lowered, and he shook it back and forth. Jimmy saw the doubt grow darker and he reached up and grabbed Thomas chin and made him look at him. Gray eyes pierced into him.

"I… _Thomas,_ " it flowed out of him perfectly tune. 

Thomas sighed and his eyes closed but they opened a moment later but he shook his head. 

"Not enough?"

"Just… How long Jimmy? How long have you known you were like me?"

For a split second he was happy for the specificity of the question, but then he realized he didn't have the answer. There wasn't a length, well there was, but he wasn't sure of it. He shoved so much away, and he closed his eyes and tried to think of the first moment he could remember. The first moment that had him wondering that maybe he wasn't like the other men around him. 

"Jimmy?"

"I don't… I'm not like you," he said and instantly regretted it. A mask slammed down, and Thomas' eyes hardened. He found his hand empty, and Thomas was standing up. Jimmy rushed forward, and he grabbed onto both of his Thomas' hands. " _Thomas,_ don't, that's not…" 

He managed to yank him back, and they jostled a bit as Thomas fell back onto the bed. Jimmy gripped his hands, and Thomas slowly looked at him again. A mask hiding the turmoil that Jimmy knew was inside of him. He knew Thomas, he knew that clench of his jaw that made his the height of his cheekbones seem impossible. Thomas straightened his spine and looked right into him. "I need more than my name… even if…" 

"I know."

"Then give it," Thomas commanded. 

"I'm trying. I don't. I've never. I've always shoved it right away, pushed it out of my mind and it was easy. It was easy to do it because I like women. It was easy to ignore it because I liked women. I was fine because I like women." 

Thomas' eyes darted away. 

"I like women, but I want you… I…" Jimmy let go of one of his hands and put his hand on the back of Thomas' neck. "I want you, I want you…" he leaned in meaning to kiss him. He wanted to show him because words were impossible and he didn't understand why. All his life he was able to talk himself into and out of any situation he wanted. He was a charmer, and he knew how to use his words to get what he wanted. But with Thomas, he found himself flustered and silenced. He found himself miscommunicating and messing up. And right now the last thing he wanted to do was mess up. So he leaned forward to show him how wanted he was and how he felt. 

But Thomas wouldn't let him, but he refused to move his hand, he pushed it up a bit into Thomas' hair and started to rub his thumb back and forth on the skin that was underneath. 

"There must be someone," Thomas muttered. 

"What?"

Thomas stared at him. "A man, Jimmy. One you fancied, that you…as a kid or a teenager. Bloody hell, the war?" 

The war. Jimmy felt lead in his stomach, there were things to tell him about the war, but that wasn't the start of the story. That wasn't where he needed to begin, and he knew it. "Kid?"

"I've always known, Jimmy." Thomas sighed. 

"Always."

"Yes, maybe not what it was but that I was different. Sure I could roughhouse and play games with the boys, but I wasn't like them. I took everything too friendships too seriously, and I tried to hold hands…" Thomas laughed. "That was the first weird look I got. I took hold of some kids hand, don't remember his name now -- how odd? He was important to me. I remember him. Thought we were best mates. Until I held his hand on a walk back home." 

"What happened?"

"He started calling me a sissy. All that needed to happen wasn't it. At least then I had a name for it."

"That's not…" Jimmy shook his head. "That's not the name for it."

"Oh, but it was all I heard for years and thought it true."

"Liar, you knew you weren't that…"

Thomas sighed. "I've managed to believe it's not all that I am."

"No," he shouted it the feeling punching at him, and Thomas' hand landed on his mouth to quiet him. Jimmy stared into Thomas' eyes, and under the panic, someone may have heard Jimmy was an insecurity that surprised him. He knew Thomas doubted him, and he knew Thomas wasn't as confident as he pretended but he hadn't… 

"It doesn't matter," Thomas muttered.

Jimmy kissed the palm of his hand, thankful it was his right hand because he may not have felt it if the glove was in the way. 

"Jimmy," Thomas sighed as his eyes widened. He lowered his hand. 

"I offered to kiss my friend Brian," Jimmy shared, the memory coming to him out of nowhere. 

"What?"

"We were kids, not quite teenagers and we both had crushes on these sisters. Don't remember their names but we thought they might go to this local dance with us and were talking about kissing them. Brian was worried, but I wasn't, was quite sure I would know what to do."

Thomas laughed and relief flooded Jimmy, the mask was slipping away. He smiled at the slight upturn on the edges Thomas' mouth. "What?" 

"You were quite sure you'd be good at kissing?"

"Yes."

Thomas laughed again.

"True isn't…" he pressed, his hand still on Thomas' neck and it invoked a soft sigh and Jimmy was pressing his mouth against him. They kissed, softly but too swiftly. 

"Yeah," Thomas whispered pulling away. "And?"

"And…" Jimmy shook his head his mind fuzzy from kissing Thomas and hating that he'd pulled away. 

"What happened with Brian?"

"Oh, I offered to kiss him, give him some practice. Didn't think a thing of it, just figured why not…" Jimmy shook his head. "This is all just came back to me, and I thought he had a nice mouth -- suppose it wasn't the normal sort of thing I was meant to notice." 

"What did he do?"

"He laughed it off, I guess. Remembering that I told him it was his loss and not to blame me when he turned out bad at it." 

"My charmed one," Thomas said with a sigh, and his right hand touched Jimmy's cheek.

Jimmy moved into the touch. "I… want to tell you a lot of things I just…" 

"I won't press… I just need to know that…"

"I want you?" Jimmy whispered.

"That you…" Thomas nodded. "I don't want to be…"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jimmy snapped. 

Thomas met his eyes and shook his head. 

"I'm not," Jimmy said again. "Bloody hell… _Thomas!_ "

"Don't make promises." 

"Sod that." Jimmy lunged forward both his hands on Thomas' shoulders and wrenched him forward. He kissed him, hard and furious. He hated he couldn't tell him loved him and he poured it all into the kiss. In a desperate fashion and his anger was in the edge of the kisses. But Thomas was kissing him back, and all the hunger was there again. Thomas was taking it over again, clutching at Jimmy again and pulling him closer and closer. Pushing his tongue deeper into Jimmy's mouth and yanking Jimmy over his body on the bed. 

He kept a hand by Thomas' head despite wanting to crush into him. But he wanted him to be able to gasp for breath when Jimmy's mouth left his for short breathe of it himself. Thomas grabbed his hips and suddenly his thigh slotted between Thomas' legs, and he groaned at the friction against his cock and the feeling of Thomas' against him, and he groaned into his mouth in frustration about their clothes. 

Thomas' laughter vibrated between them, and he thought maybe he might have said something about getting rid of their clothes. He decided to repeat it when Thomas' voice was in his ear. "No." 

"Yes," Jimmy argued and lifted up, but the movement caused more friction which made him bend down and lick at Thomas' jaw. 

Thomas grabbed Jimmy's hips, hands slipped under his pants and against his skin and digging in. He ground up, and Jimmy relaxed in and ground down and felt Thomas' mouth at his neck, and he sighed. "Marking me again?"

"Always," Thomas said and kissed his skin. 

Jimmy sighed and found a patch of skin of his own, breathing into Thomas' neck and licking at the skin. Soap, smoke and sweat and him. His. Thomas' made moans and groans but all Jimmy heard was music and the vibration that was Thomas. He recognized from years of conversations and hours and hours down by the piano as Thomas blew clouds around them as Jimmy played. A sudden urge to find notes for it made him bite down on the skin he was kissing. And Thomas gasped beautifully, so he did it again and got lost in it and lost as they ground against each other with less and less finesse -- if they ever had it to begin with. 

"Jimmy…" Thomas called out his name in a harsh whisper right into his ear and fell back onto the bed, and Jimmy sang out _Thomas_ on a harsh breath and fell over him, nearly not bracing his weight a bit on his elbow, and their foreheads touched. They stared into each other eyes and Jimmy felt himself start to blush as he realized what happened and it felt wonderful and odd. 

And messy. 

" _Thomas_ ," he whispered and kissed him chastely. 

Thomas pushed his hand into Jimmy's hair, pushing it off of his forehead and grinned up at him dreamily. "You are real…"


	9. Chapter 9

Cecilia Griffin forced a smile as a rush of nerves threatened her progress. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so nervous to be going to Downton Abbey. There were no plans to be knocking on the front door of the place and asking for tea with the Earl and the Countess. She giggled at the thought of it and felt a bit relieved to see the building come into sharper focus. 

She felt impatient. Jimmy promised to see her once he played the song for Thomas but she decided enough time had passed since she had seen her favorite student. Cecilia giggled again at that thought, he far surpassed her in talent, but she held the knowledge he lacked. For the moment. More importantly, she liked Jimmy Kent. Even though she was quite sure he’d forgotten his promise to keep her updated, also she wanted to continue his lessons. Her knowledge could only continue to help his talent. 

She was becoming distracted though from her intentions. Downton Abbey was beautiful. It stood against a blue sky, acres of land around it and she was amazed at its mass. It was a beautiful and grand house. She felt smaller and smaller as she walked toward it. She was but a piano teacher with the luck to have born to a middle class family. Though they probably wished she wasn’t quite the black sheep, but they wouldn’t turn their backs on her. Just send her away to live with her Aunt. She stopped to stare — goggle really — at the estate and shook her head. Its grand beauty was a lot to process, and she found herself thinking about symphonies and grand opuses in her head. She took a slow deep breath and took it in for a moment longer. She always believed beauty deserved pause and reflection. 

But she had a mission, and she continued to walk toward the back of the building. On a well-trodden path, small rocks crunching under her feet. The nerves were back, but she kept forward. Relief washed through her however as she spied Thomas standing outside. He was speaking with a woman, about ten years older than her but around her height and size. Plainly dressed and Cecilia thought she must be a Lady’s Maid. What a strange job that must be, she thought as she continued closer. 

“If there were something to tell, Mr. Barrow I would tell it?”

“Are you sure about that Miss Baxter because it seems to me you are holding back.” 

Cecilia found herself slowing in surprise at the coldness in Thomas’ tone. Her eyes widened, and she realized neither had noticed her presence. 

“There is nothing to tell.”

“I was gone for weeks, Miss Baxter. There is not one thing to tell? Perhaps about Nanny West, for instance?”

“Nanny West?” Miss Baxter shook her head.

“Nothing that her Ladyship has said or done?”

“Again, Mr. Barrow there is nothing to tell.”

“There is always something to tell, Miss Baxter,” Thomas snapped, and Cecilia watched him toss his cigarette to the ground. His foot stamped it down. “Do I need to remind you why I helped you garner employment here?” 

“No, Mr. Barrow… I must be getting back inside.” Miss Baxter started to move, and that was when her eyes fell on Cecilia. Her hand when to chest and she laughed a bit. “You startled me. May we help?” 

Cecilia paid her little mind as she watched Thomas’ entire countenance change. He went from tall and looming to simply tall. The angry but cold expression on his face shifted into something warmer, something she recognized and his mouth twitched into something of a smile. “Miss Griffin, what brings you by?”

“Miss Griffin?” the woman asked and looked at her. “You’re Jimmy’s piano teacher.”

“I suppose that is our contract on paper,” she said. “I’ve come to track down my wayward student. He promised me a report.” 

“Ah, yes… When people promise reports, they should fulfill them. Don’t you think Miss Baxter?” Cecilia could feel the bite of his tone even from where she stood but when he looked a her his gaze was welcoming. It was quite disconcerting. 

“I have to get back inside,” Miss Baxter said and hurried away. 

Cecilia stepped closer and watched Thomas light another cigarette. “You are quite a chimney.”

“Helps me think,” Thomas said.

“Oh, Mr. Barrow you don’t need help there.”

He grinned.

“So?” she asked. 

“So?”

“Thomas, please… the song. Have you heard it?” 

Her answer was swift and wordless. His cheeks turned a bright pink, and she realized for the first time Thomas had dimples due to the wideness of his smile. He instantly tried to control down to something less vulnerable, but she saw it in his eyes. 

“Was it beautiful?”

Thomas tensed a bit, and he looked her up and down. “You didn’t hear all of it?” he asked, but it sounded like an accusation.

“Of course not…not really. He hated me hearing just the bits and pieces.” 

Thomas relaxed. “It was more than I imagined it could be.”

“Declarations often are,” she said.

“What?” Thomas was looking at her now with suspicion, and it wasn’t near the coldness she seen him level at the other woman, but it did put her on edge. She sighed because she was always putting her foot in it and she realized while she told Jimmy she saw through them Thomas remained clueless. 

“Just that… I see things most do not, and I understood what the song was — possibly before Jimmy admitted it to himself,” she spoke carefully. 

Thomas studied her, and she was relieved to see his shoulders relax. “Seems I was the last to know…” he smiled again but shook his head. 

Cecilia grinned. “Is Jimmy free to speak a moment or two? I do want him to keep coming to lessons. I know the song is finished but there are things about composing I can still teach him — and well honestly, he can show me more than a thing or two.” 

“He is… talented,” Thomas said the pride evident.

“And has you to thank for hearing it,” Cecilia nodded. 

“He’s due out here any minute.”

“Oh. But if that’s your time together…”

“He’ll want to see you,” Thomas interrupted. “And it’s not our only smoke break of the day.”

“Very well,” she said and stepped closer. “Give me a cigarette then.” 

He huffed a laugh but passed one over and lit for her. She puffed on it and started coughing. 

“I don’t do this often, don’t laugh.”

“Would never laugh at a lady.” 

“I don’t buy that,” Cecilia said. 

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.

“That was an intense conversation I walked into…” Cecilia pressed unable to stop her curiosity. 

His expression darkened, and he clenched his jaw a bit. “She owes me.” 

“Oh, why?”

He regarded her. “I got her her position as Lady’s Maid for Countess Grantham.” 

“That was nice of you?”

“Nice has nothing to do with it,” he said, but he looked to the ground. “I told her I expected certain things in return.” 

“I see.”

“Nothing is for free, Miss Griffin.”

“Cecilia. And I suppose not…” but she tilted her head at him and remembered the nervous man who came to her door speaking about his brilliant friend the piano player. Who she was looking at now wasn’t him at all. Was it real? “How was America?” she asked changing the subject. 

“Different. I find I prefer England.” 

“I would’ve thought America would suit you?”

He shook his head. “In some ways perhaps but…” he looked at the door Miss Baxter disappeared through his expression turned into longing. “It lacked things I find I need.” 

“It would suit him,” she said and felt Thomas eyes on her. She met them and felt jolted she didn’t know anyone could stare so intensely. “What?”

“Just…. It would suit him.” Thomas said, and he flicked his cigarette and tracked the ash as it fell to the ground with his eyes. 

“Perhaps one day you could both go… I would love the chance to see it at least.”

“Right. Perhaps…” Thomas looked back at her, and his expression clouded. “Yes, you would enjoy America, Cecilia.” 

~~~

Jimmy wanted to kill Carson. A maid knocked over a potted plant and Carson called him in to clean up the soil and the mess. While the maid got to continue with her duties, which meant he missed his small break and his wonderful — and sanity saving - ten minute break with Thomas. He stomped down the stairs but then stopped short when he heard music. He blinked in shock. He was the only one who played the piano. Who was playing the piano? His irritation spiked upward because someone was playing his piano. Who the hell was playing his piano? 

He hurried into the servant’s hall and both his body and his anger stopped short when he saw it was Cecilia. She was showing Daisy how to play the first line of a popular piece that Ivy was always making him play. Ivy was standing by the piano too with an uncharacteristic frown on her face. Jimmy glanced around the room, and his earlier mood threatened to return because Thomas was nowhere in sight. 

“Oh, there you are,” Cecilia said spotting him. 

“Hello,” he said. 

“You were supposed to drop by and let me know… well you know,” she said and glanced around the room. Jimmy noticed Mrs. Hughes, Miss Baxter and Molesley were all in the room. 

“Is it about his song. It’s quite a feat, isn’t it,” Molesley said.

Jimmy clenched his jaw and wished he could punch Molesley in his. Cecilia’s eyes widened, and she looked at the others in the room. “You’ve heard it?”

“Jimmy was nice of enough to play it for us, and we were all impressed with the final piece. You taught him well,” Mrs. Hughes said. 

“Oh, I didn’t teach him anything when it came to the song itself,” Cecilia said. “May we talk?” 

“Oh, yes, why don’t you two use my parlor,” Mrs. Hughes said with a smile. 

Jimmy stared at her for a moment wondering why the hell she’d allow them to do that? But he decided not to question it and motioned for Cecilia to follow him. He felt guilty now he never allowed her to truly hear the song. She was instrumental in helping him finish it and writing it down. She helped make it all possible and yet he played it for people who hadn't deserved it. 

“You played it for them?” Cecilia said the moment the door closed. “I’m quite…”

“Molesley kept opening his big mouth. It was…. Unavoidable.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry. I know how important it was to you that just Thomas heard it.” 

“Yeah…” Jimmy grinned. “He did hear it. When it was just…. _Us,_ ” he nearly whispered afraid she might realize it was the title of the song.

“I won’t complain that I won’t… well more than that,” Cecilia laughed. “I came because you promised me a report on his reaction and if…”

Jimmy blushed as he remembered that she had seen through him because she knew the song as well as one could without fully hearing it. He blushed and looked away. “He knows.”

“I thought so… but he’s so hard to read.”

“You spoke with him?” Jimmy whined. “Carson made me miss my break.”

“He guessed exactly that…”

“He knows I wouldn’t miss it…. His company is what keeps me sane. Feel like the walls are always trying to close in on me. Except when…” 

“I’m happy for the two of you, it’s rare to find…” she looked away from him and Jimmy noticed her blinking. She shared something with him. He remembered the name she whispered carefully so no one would hear. He wondered where Lillie was and why she wasn’t with Cecilia. 

“It’s… strange,” he said. 

“What is?”

“How easy it feels,” Jimmy said. “I was hiding for so long, and I keep waiting for the fear to come back.” 

“Maybe it won’t,” she said. 

“I hope so,” he admitted. 

“Just… he loved it, the song?”

“As much as I do… for all the same reasons,” Jimmy admitted.

“I’m happy, really, to have a small part in that.”

Jimmy nodded.

“I have another reason for stopping by though.”

“What?”

“I also wanted to bring up you still taking lessons. There is plenty more knowledge about composing I can impart — and you are more than just one love song Jimmy. You could create amazing things and well… I think you’ll make me a better composer myself.” 

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well… then yeah.” He grinned but grew worried. “I’ll keep coming if Mr. Carson lets me…. I’ll bring it up with Mrs. Hughes first. I mean, I want to know more, definitely and I’m already…”

“Working on something new? I’m not surprised.”

Jimmy nodded and felt a bit vulnerable that she knew and that she understood because she wasn’t Thomas. He wanted Thomas to see all of him, everything, if he could just let some of his walls fall away, he would give Thomas everything. But Cecilia, though a friend and a musical mentor. He wasn’t sure he wanted her seeing him. Their relationship was about music, and it was impossible for him to hide himself, and she was intuitive and insightful. 

“Jimmy?”

He shook himself. “No, yes. I’ll keep coming to lessons.” 

She clapped her hands and grinned. “Then I’ll be on my way and expect to see you tomorrow at five.” 

Jimmy nodded and opened the door. She stopped by him and kissed him on his cheek. He gave her his most charming smile in response, and as they stepped out into the hallway, they both nearly knocked over Ivy. “What are you doing?” Jimmy snapped at her.

“Nothing,” she said, and ran away.

Jimmy stared after her and shook his head. 

“That’s Ivy, right?” Cecilia asked him.

Jimmy nodded.

Cecilia smirked.

“What?”

“She’s got quite a crush on you.” 

Jimmy rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cecilia said and started down the hallway.

Jimmy was about to call out another goodbye when Carson appeared. “What are you dawdling about for, dinner service has started — get to the kitchen.”


	10. Chapter 10

Thomas sat down his tea and saucer on the table with more noise than was necessary. It caused Miss Baxter too look and he purposely caught her eye. "Have you had a nice day, Miss Baxter?"

She regarded him warily and nodded. He held eye contact and she darted her eyes back down to the sewing she held her in hands. "It was nice a day." 

"Hear any stories?"

"Nothing of interest," she said. 

Thomas inhaled sharply on his cigarette. "Nothing."

"Nothing," she muttered. 

Thomas pulled in his cheeks more on the next inhale. This wasn't the arrangement they made and he wasn't happy. Nothing was not an acceptable answer. Even on the most boring days something happened upstairs. Maybe he needed to give her more instruction on what he wanted to hear. He was giving her silence about her past transgressions. She knew he wasn't doing it out of kindness. He wanted to know what was going around the house. It wasn't that difficult. He tapped ash into the ashtray annoyed and kept his stare on her for another minute. She shifted a bit in her seat and darted her eyes toward him a few times. He looked way as Mr. Molesley walked in the room -- he always seemed to be around of late. It was no secret it was to see Miss Baxter. Thomas shook his head and glanced at her -- happy to see him. It was baffling. 

He sighed and lifted his cooling tea to his mouth. Jimmy walked into the room and tossed his white gloves onto the table. Thomas raised an eyebrow at him and darted his eyes toward Carson's chair. Jimmy huffed out in annoyance and pulled the gloves off the table and shoved them in his pockets. Thomas smirked at the annoyed look on his face. Jimmy tried to maintain his scowl but couldn't. He grinned before he turned around and sat down at the piano. He started playing the discordant notes again and Thomas told himself not to allow them to bother him but the scraped against his insides anyway. 

He reached for his packs of cigarettes needing another and flinched as his hand ached sharply as he curled his hand around the pack. He pulled out the cigarette and lit it. Then he flexed his left hand and tugged the gloved a bit, loosening it over his fingers and he shook it a bit. He'd done a lot of lifting during the day and it was coming back to haunt him. 

The discordant notes came to a sudden halt and Thomas looked up to see Jimmy looking right him, his mouth set in the way it got when he was worried. His eyes flicked to Thomas' left hand and Thomas shook his head slightly. He shouldn't worry about it. It was nothing. Just some pain. Jimmy scowled at him and when he turned back to the piano he started playing with his own version of the Scottish lullaby his mother had taught him. It was a bit faster but still quite beautiful and never strayed too far from it's inspiration. It was clear he honoring what came before but was updating it to appeal to his more modern sensibilities. 

Thomas closed his eyes. Second to their song he loved the Scottish lullaby and he loved this as well. He quickly finshed his tea and slowly smoked his cigarette and didn't bother to read the magazine he picked up. It sat unopened as he sat and listened to Jimmy play the piano. But now again pain would tingle in his hand and he have to adjust his glove and try move it so it wouldn't feel so stiff. Everytime he did the notes would falter on the piano and he look up to see Jimmy frowning at him. 

Thomas flushed everytime and felt conflicting emotions. There was the swell of awe as he thought about Jimmy staring into his eyes with raw emotion and what Thomas wanted to beleive as love. Jimmy looked at him like he was worth somethin and this worry for him was proving it. His emotions rushed and swirled in his head. He felt thankful and surprised. Two things that he often felt in conjunction. But he also felt uncomfortable. It was his hand and he knew how it became wounded. He'd told Jimmy his secret, he knew why and yet he still cared. He still looked at Thomas like he was brave. He really wondered where Jimmy gotten that idea. It was far from the truth. 

He finished his tea and noticed most everyone was gone from the servant's hall. There were only three people besides him and Jimmy. Alfred was talking to Mrs. Patmore by the door to the kitchen, and Mrs. Hughes was in her seat by the head of the table making notes in one of her little leather bound books. He decided it wasn't too many eyes as well as eyes that wouldn't look too closely at them. 

He stood up, the chair under him scraping a bit agains the wood flooring. He took his cigarette and his lighter and slid onto the piano bench next to Jimmy. Jimmy nudged into him immediately and gave him a slight grin. He then glanced behind and the lullaby shifted into a piece of their song. It was the end piece where the happier notes drowned out the anger and sadness that been the bulk of the song. It ended on a happiness and it ended in Thomas name. Jimmy played the notes and his eyes darting to Thomas everytime. 

Thomas allowed himself a small smile and lit another cigarette. His left hand making him wince as he used it to open the flame on his lighter. Jimmy's notes felll a bit flat and this time Thomas found himself looking into pools of worried blue. The perfect shade of blue and he shook his head more defiantly this time. Arguing with Jimmy's worry. 

"No," Jimmy whispered at him before he continued on playing more smoothly. 

"It's nothing," he whispered.

"I don't believe you."

Thomas looked away and busied himself with his cigarette. Jimmy continued play the ending of refrain of their song. His pressure as he played the notes that were Thomas' name changing just a little bit every time. Thomas looked at him after one that almost captured the breathy way Jimmy whispered it against his skin. His face red and Jimmy smirked at him and looked away. Thomas sighed out a puff of smoke and leaned into him a bit, their shoulders touching. 

"You spoke with Cecicila?"

"Yes…going to continue lessons. She says their is more she can teach me."

"She told me you were teaching her too."

Jimmy shook his head and Thomas grinned at the rare show of modesty on his face. His cheeks were pink as he took in the compliment. "I doubt it." 

"I don't," Thomas said. 

Jimmy looked at him but quickly looked away. "It's… thank you."

Thomas stared at him. 

"For the lessons… I like knowingthe shape of the notes to go with the sounds…" he played Thomas name, sharp and strong. "I like knowing exactly what makes this sound…" 

Thomas swallowed. 

"That I can write it down."

"Will you write the lullaby?"

Jimmy nodded. "I think so… both versions." 

"Mother and son?" Thomas teased.

"I guesss so…" Jimmy smiled. "Mum would like it I think. That I know it, that I wrote it down," his voice was choked like it got when he was trying to voice emotions. 

"I'm sure she would, Jimmy," Thomas whispered and he moved a bit closer so he could touch Jimmy's leg with is left hand for a moment without being seen. Jimmy's cheeks turned pinker at the touch and he leaned into Thomas. They were looking right at each other and Thomas felt his breathe quicken and wondered how Jimmy kept his hands even on the keys. 

_Thomas, Thomas, Thomas…_ they played in a fast rhythm. 

Thomas felt his throat go dry and he focused on his cigarette. Trying to tamp down on both his emotions and his physical reactions. But he couldn't take his eyes off of Jimmy which made it difficult. He cleared his throat as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the piano. He looked Jimmy and cocked his head ever-so-slighty in the direction of the stairs. Jimmy nodded and continued to play. 

~~~

Jimmy's fingers stilled on the piano a moment or two after Thomas left but his heart kept playing the same rhythm. He took a deep breath, he needed to slow it down. He needed to breathe a bit before he made his way to Thomas' room and it started racing again. He closed his eyes, took a breath and started playing the lullaby. His mother's version, soft and slow, to calm himself down and maybe dull the deep pink he was afraid his cheeks might be. It'd look like h stole Ivy's blush. 

The slower song helped him calm his heart if not his anticipation. He ached to get up the stairs but he knew he couldn't afford to show it. He felt like never had enough time with Thomas. At the piano and upstairs. Even on day like today when they found themselves outside and alone for longer than five minutes. It wasn't enough and he wished they could've spoken to Cecilia together -- she knew their secret. He wondered what it would be like not to have to hide his glances. What it might be like to really look at Thomas how he wished in front of someone else? 

Deciding he felt steady enough to stand he turned on the bench and nearly shouted. Alfred was standing behind Mr. Carson's chair and looking right at him. He scowled at him and stood up. "What?"

"You and Mr. Barrow?"

"What about us?" Jimmy said. 

"Things seem better, is all."

"What does that mean?"

"Things were back to being weird before he went to America. Thought maybe you two had a falling out."

"We didn't… I was focused on the song is all." 

"You never play it."

"Was playing it tonight."

"Just a bit of it… Went through all that time and trouble with it. Why don't you play it?"

"None of you business is what it is," Jimmy snapped.

"But you two seem close again, yeah?"

"We were never not close," Jimmy said. 

Alfred looked athim like he wanted to say something.

"What?"

"You let him touch you," Alfred whispered. 

Jimmy clenched his fists. "And?"

"Just aren't you worried…"

"No."

"No?"

"It's not contagious, Alfred."

"He might get the wrong idea."

Jimmy laughed. 

"It doesn't bother you? You used to hate it."

"Didn't know him then… do now," Jimmy faked a yawn. "I'm tired, Alfred."

"I'll go up now too. Was getting some recipes from Mrs. Patmore, gonna read the over before I got to sleep."

"Great."

"Worked it out with Mr. Carson today to take time off for it. It's a whole day. I'm nervous but excited."

"Should be, you'll be in London."

"For the class, to get the chance… it could be my way into doing what I love."

Jimmy hurried his steps thinking about the thing he loves. He yawned again. "Tired, was a long day."

"Keep yawning like that I'll start too," Alfred laughed.

"You make me yawn, every day, Alfred."

"Oi," Alfred shot him a look.

Jimmy chuckled. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything downstairs. I mean it's good you and Mr. Barrrow can be friends -- after all that."

Jimmy grit his teeth because he hated thinking about it. 

"Just… he makes me nervous, sometimes."

Jimmy stopped in front of the door to servant's attic. "What?"

"Just not sure I want him too close…"

"Not something you have to worry about, is it? Mr. Barrow's never looked at you twice." 

"Still… plus, his attitude. He’s not as nice to the rest of us as he is to you. He kept crowding and bugging Miss Baxter today, what's that about?"

"How would I know," Jimmy lied. "Why don't you just worry about your recipes Alfred." 

"Just saying…" Alfred walked down the hall to his room. Jimmy watched him go into it and wished his room was right across from Thomas'. He wouldn't have to worry about stepping on the creaky floorboard that was between their rooms when he went back and forth. 

He ducked into his room and quickly dropped down to just his vest and pants. Splashed some water on his face and fiddle with his hair… imagining Thomas messing it up the entire time. He laughed and opened his door. The hall was empty and likely to stay that way but he hurried toward Thomas room anyway and opened the door. 

He scowled immediately as he stepped inside.


	11. Chapter 11

The moment he opened the door Jimmy saw Thomas rubbing his left palm with his right hand. His pain was evident in the way he was holding his jaw. Jimmy stepped into the room, and Thomas realized he was there and dropped his hand, going as far as putting his left arm behind his back. The pain disappeared because of his smile at the sight of Jimmy. Which was good, Jimmy liked that smile but the rest of it made him angry, and he scowled. He shut and locked the door behind him. The stomped across the room and grabbed Thomas left wrist. 

“Jimmy…”

“Don’t,” Jimmy snapped. “It hurts.”

“It’s fine,” Thomas said and looked away from him.

“Is not,” Jimmy argued, and he held the hand in his own. 

“You don’t…”

“I want to,” he said and started rubbing his thumb over the center of the scarring. 

“Jimmy…” Thomas breathed. 

He looked up from his hand and smiled as he saw Thomas watching his ministrations. He tugged him and started walking backward, taking them to the bed. He dropped Thomas’ hand only for a moment. Long enough to get them both sitting on the bed their legs crossed and facing each other. Then he picked it up again and started caressing it more than anything. Jimmy liked doing it. Like the feeling of the scar against his thumb and loved feeling Thomas’ cool palm become warmer the longer he touched him. 

“You shouldn’t…” Thomas started to argue again.

Jimmy's eyes snapped up but Thomas wasn’t looking at him, and he frowned. “Look at me.” 

Slowly Thomas met his gaze, and he shook his head. Jimmy studied the expression in his eyes and saw the tension in his shoulders. He pressed harder against his palm, his thumb going in circles. “You shouldn’t…”

“I should, and you should let me,” Jimmy said.

“It’s… I did it.” 

Jimmy frowned. “I know.”

Thomas shook his head.

“You saved yourself,” Jimmy whispered. 

“I ran away.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No.” 

“If anyone knew…”

“I know you." Jimmy smiled. 

Thomas kept shaking his head, and Jimmy dropped his hand for a moment. He put his hands on his shoulders, thumbs near his neck and started massaging. Thomas closed his eyes at the contact and pressure, and for a brief moment, Jimmy thought he might start to relax. He kept it up and shuffled closer to him on the bed. His right hand started sliding down Thomas' arm, and he picked up the hand again. This time he lifted it to his mouth and kissed the center of his palm. His eyes on Thomas the entire time and he sighed in annoyance when Thomas tensed immediately. 

“Will you relax already?”

Thomas let out a wry chuckle. 

Jimmy sighed and kissed his hand again. “It helps doesn’t it?” he asked as he started to rub his palm loving the feel of the scarring against his thumb. He kept his eyes on Thomas' face. 

“It does…” he conceded. 

“Then let me,” Jimmy whispered. 

Thomas nodded, and he shifted on the bed and allowed his posture to relax a little Jimmy felt smug as Thomas' eyes fell onto their hands, looking at what Jimmy was doing for the first time. He pressed his thumb and fingers against the skin. After a minute Thomas relaxed his arm, it no longer felt like he might pull it away at any moment. Jimmy smiled and continued to rub his hand. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth and looked up. Thomas was staring at him, right him and his features soft and his expression — sweet. Jimmy inhaled deeply at the sight of it. 

“It’s helping,” Thomas said his voice low. 

“Good,” Jimmy moved his hand, so his thumb was now on the back of his hand and the other side of the scarring. He rubbed in circles and pressed his fingers into his palm. 

Thomas sighed and moved his body closer, his head falling onto Jimmy’s shoulders. “Why?”

“You know why,” Jimmy’s voice was choked. 

Thomas let out a soft sigh. 

Jimmy continued rubbing his thumb over the scar on the back of his hand. His memory shifted them from the bed to the servant’s hall downstairs in his mind. Jimmy was doing what he was doing now, only they sat across each other at the table. Their hands their only link and Jimmy intent on massaging his hand. Intent on helping Thomas for once instead of the other way around. So, focused he was on helping he missed he was seducing him. But that wasn’t everything he thought — he thought about his reactions when Thomas begged him to stop. How easily he let go to run away. He knew why he ran, now. He knew why then too but he understood now. 

Jimmy pulled Thomas hand up and pressed his lips against the scar on the back of his hand. Thomas pressed his forehead harder against his shoulder and whimpered. Jimmy kissed it again, and his mouth moved to his knuckles, brushing his lips against them. “I remember.”

Thomas lifted up, and he met an intense stare and the question in it.

“I remember what happened last time I did this,” Jimmy whispered. 

Thomas licked his lips, and his eyes fell on Jimmy’s mouth, which was still lightly pressed against the skin of his hand. He swallowed and looked up and into Jimmy’s eyes. “What you do to me…” he whispered. 

Jimmy nodded his left hand reached up and ran his fingers through Thomas’ hair. “I seduced you.”

“It’s not difficult,” Thomas chuckled. 

“Seduced me too,” he revealed. 

A sound fell from Thomas’ throat, surprised, aroused, questioning. Jimmy loved how sounds could carrying so many emotions. He nodded, and his thumb was on the inside of the Thomas' wrist, and he caressed the skin over his pulse. He could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong, and nearly frantic. For him. 

“I did,” he said. “Seduced me too, and knew… found out I loved that I could make you fall apart.”

“Bloody good at it…” Thomas said his voice strained. 

“I know I hurt you then…that night.” 

Thomas shook his head. 

“I did… I took advantage.”

“You were trying to help.”

“I took advantage.” He swallowed and pulled Thomas wrist to his mouth. He kissed the inside of it. “I wasn’t admitting it, but I knew it would affect you underneath the thoughtlessness.” 

“Hmmm…” Thomas' eyes were on his lips against his wrist. 

“I hope you know….” Jimmy pressed a harder kiss. “I plan to follow through this time.” 

Thomas let out a groan but also a small laugh as his mouth turned upward. “How so?”

He dropped Thomas’ hand and lifted both of his to Thomas' face. He was so close, and they'd moved so close, there was almost no distance to cross to kiss him. It made Jimmy grin, and he pressed his mouth firmly against Thomas’. His grin widened in triumph as Thomas surged closer and his hands grabbed at Jimmy’s hair, he tugged at, he pushed Jimmy closer to deepen the kiss. Jimmy dropped his hands to Thomas shoulders and down his chest. He tugged at the vest he was wearing, and despite wanting it, he whined in annoyance when they pulled apart long enough for him to pull it over Thomas’ head. His mouth pressed hungrily back on Thomas’, pulling his upper lip into his mouth and then doing the same with the bottom. 

Thomas breathed his name and latched his mouth to his jaw, and Jimmy pressed his palms on Thomas' chest, his right pressing where his heart lay underneath, and he felt the frenetic beating. How much Thomas was affected by him under his palm. A smug smile on his face and he grabbed Thomas, hands digging into his skin as he moved them and Thomas was on his back. Jimmy braced over him and stared down into his eyes. The both of them breathing heavily. Thomas leaned up and kissed him, hands-on Jimmy’s vest and soon it was it was off, and Jimmy had his mouth against Thomas' throat. 

“Jimmy….” It was broken whisper.

He hummed against Thomas skin it was probably his name, unspoken but loud all the same. Jimmy kissed down the hollow of his throat, across his collarbone and down to his chest. His hands joined his lips, pressing against the skin and muscle and touching his nipples — with fingers and teeth. 

“Jimmy…” Thomas' hands were in his hair, pressing his face into his body. 

Jimmy looked up and met nearly black gray full of want, need and the evident love that always twisted something in his chest. He darted his eyes away but pressed his mouth against Thomas' stomach, his hands sprawled wide still on his chest. He kissed lower, his hands falling to Thomas’ rib cage and sliding down. Thomas chuckled a bit, and Jimmy did it again, looking up and meeting his eyes. 

Ticklish was the question and answer in their eyes. 

Jimmy grinned smugly and did it again, and Thomas laughed on a sigh and pushed his hands deeper into Jimmy’s hair. He guided Jimmy mouth at his skin. He readily followed the order in Thomas’ hand and kissed his navel and below it until he his mouth found Thomas cock, hard and long trapped under the fabric of his pants. He pressed his mouth against it, and his hands clumsily yanked at the fastenings. 

Thomas cursed and leaned up on his elbows. Jimmy met his eyes, and they both nodded. Jimmy scowled as his fingers felt thick and clumsy suddenly, and he was too hurried, but he didn’t slow down. He yanked down the rest of Thomas’ clothing and felt his breath leave his body at the sight of Thomas’ cock. 

“Jimmy…” Thomas' voice was deep and Jimmy groaned at the sound of it. “You don’t…”

He scowled up at him and wrapped his left hand around Thomas. “Yes, I do.” 

Thomas’ fist flew to his face, and he pressed it into his mouth as he might a keening sound. His hips thrust up and off the bed. Jimmy knew the smile he gave him was more of a leer, but he couldn’t help but feel smug about the reaction. 

He looked down at his hand and Thomas’ cock. He tightened his grip and closed his eyes for a moment feeling the weight of it, the heat of it and the size of it. Then he opened his eyes started to move his hand. Down and up, his thumb over the head, capturing moisture. He watched it and watched them, his eyes darting up to look at Thomas. He was staring too, his hand in his mouth and his face and chest flushed and beautiful muffled sounds coming from his throat. 

Jimmy licked his lips and bent down and took the head of Thomas’ cock into his mouth. He moaned at the taste of him, it was Thomas, and he loved it. He wrapped his lips around him and sucked in a gulp of air as he swallowed down more of him. 

“Fuck…” Thomas cursed on a muffled shout. 

Jimmy smiled around him and swallowed him deeper as a hand was on the back of his head, fingers curled in his hair and pushing hard but not too hard. Thomas guided him with tugs of his hair. Jimmy used his tongue on the underside of his cock and over the head of it. His hand twisted and his thumb followed his tongue. He hummed Thomas name as he went. 

“Jimmy…” it was a choked out warning. 

He didn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop, and soon he pressed one hand hard against Thomas' hip as he swallowed him through his orgasm. Jimmy licked it up and sighed as he pulled away from Thomas’ cock and up onto his knees and looked at him. Thomas was leaned up on his elbows, and he was staring at Jimmy in that way he had — like he wasn’t real. 

Suddenly without warning Thomas moved and grabbed Jimmy, twisting them, and he had Jimmy underneath him. “You…”

Jimmy laughed. “See….what letting me take of you gets you.” 

Thomas groaned and laughed, he lowered his mouth to Jimmy’s and moaned as he tasted himself, Jimmy sighed into and pushed his tongue harder into Thomas' mouth. He ran his hand over his chest and down his ribcage. Thomas laughed in response, and his mouth fell onto Jimmy’s throat, and down to his collarbone his mouth kissed and sucked, adding to the markings already there and Jimmy relaxed into it and allowed Thomas to take over.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes on my TL since it's Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey:
> 
> What I have done with Season 4 things:
> 
> I mentioned Jimmy showing off and hurting his wrist, I believe.  
> O'Brien left and Baxter came in.   
> Thomas went to America
> 
> Which brings us to one thing I will NOT be doing which is Anna's rape.  
> I have different plans for why Thomas went in place of Mr. Bates there.
> 
> So, things are out of order but as you can see
> 
> Thomas will deal with Nanny West
> 
> Further along, a few things from Season 5 will pop up.
> 
> Ok, that helped make it straighter in mind and hopefully it didn't confuse anyone.

Thomas inhaled sharply the smoke filled his lungs too quickly causing him to cough as if he was unpracticed. He shook his head and shifted on his bed. He'd gotten little sleep. Jimmy left later than he should’ve and Thomas once again locked the door between them. The urge to follow only growing every night and the knowledge it couldn’t be chanced growing more grating. It set his teeth on edge and told himself that was a good thing. He had to keep his head, they couldn’t afford him not too…. Never again he thought. 

Last night had been — a first for him. When his hand hurt, he wanted to ignore it. But it’d ache and he couldn’t — what he did would come back to him and with it the shame that he pretended he never felt. He would tell himself the truth. He didn’t regret it. He was quite sure if he hadn’t made it out of there when he did he would’ve died in the trenches. Perhaps right in front of the eyes of another stretcher bearer. An endless cycle of death. There wasn’t a smidgen of regret in his heart. Which was why the small but persistent voice whispering he was coward was aggravating.

Getting shot been his decision and he would take the consequences. He could do his job, despite it aching and it wasn’t constant — and maybe he feared one day it would be, but there was nowt he could do to change it or make it better. But Jimmy. Thomas sighed and smiled. Jimmy wouldn’t listen, and he would push — and he acted like it was a brave act. The fool. Thomas breathed smoke out his nose and sighed. 

Thomas took care of himself, but last night Jimmy insisted on taking care of him and wore Thomas down by massaging his hand, whispering nice words in that choked voice Thomas hoped meant love. His voice hummed against his skin, against his cock. Someone was taking care of him. Him. It'd been too much, it almost always was with Jimmy. He shattered him open and the emotions he kept in careful check would flow outward — and once they did he never could stop. He teared up, and he was amazed he didn’t cry outright. But then it’d gone from gentle massaging to something much more powerful and arousing. Jimmy hummed his name while his mouth was wrapped around his cock. Coming had been like floating into the sky, and if it hadn’t felt an imperative to get his hands on Jimmy, he might have allowed himself to float into sleep. 

It felt like love he thought and smiled. It was new, and it was more than his past, all his other experiences. It was different and more solid and more real. It was a first — but it was being marred by one thing he couldn’t get out of his head. 

Jimmy had touched him with ease and confidence, and maybe it was just his personality coming through? Maybe it was his experience with the other side of things? Or he was as talented with male bodies as he was with the piano? But his mouth and his hands, and how he swallowed Thomas down — it all felt too known, and he hadn't noticed it during the moment. But he’d awoken with the thought and found himself unable to slip back into sleep. 

It was just as well. He looked at the windows. It was time to begin his day. He felt both elated and angry. It was swirling together like some of the notes in Jimmy’s song. He swallowed and sucked the last bit of his cigarette. He was jealous, and he was confused. Jimmy hinted and implied there were secrets he was keeping. Things that he needed to admit to Thomas but he hadn’t thought it was… 

That. 

Jealousy coursed through him as he turned and stood off his bed. It caught in his throat, and he ran a hand over his face. He was jealous of what? Who? A nameless man? More? He sighed. Maybe it was like the piano, and he was a savant? Thomas laughed dryly at his wishful thinking and shook his head. It was odd to feel two warring emotions, heightened to the degree they seemed to be. Every time jealousy and anger flew through him at the idea of Jimmy having been with another man, all he could remember was the stubborn set Jimmy’s jaw as he looked at Thomas' hand with concern and wrapped his own hands around it. His gentle pressure and his choked voice.

Thomas wanted the elation to win out over the jealousy. But he wasn’t sure which would? He began to get ready for the day, his heart beating too fast as he did because with every second that ticked by, Jimmy was closer to knocking on the door and asking him to fix his bow tie. It was a ridiculous ritual, and it was entirely unneeded. It was a dangerous ruse. It wouldn’t take much for even Alfred to see through it if they gave away anything else. But Thomas wasn’t about to stop it, he enjoyed it too much, and it meant that Jimmy was the first face he would see every morning. If he couldn’t wake up beside him then their ritual, risky as he thought it could be…. Was everything. 

Even when he also wanted to snap at Jimmy and find out the truth of his experience. 

The second he finished tying his bow tie the knocking started Rhythmic and musical, as was almost everything Jimmy did — or it was all in Thomas' head. But either way, it was Jimmy. His Jimmy. Possession descended and gripped him hard. 

He flew to the door and grabbed Jimmy by his forearm and yanked him hard. He flew inside, and Thomas slammed the door shut behind them. 

"What are you doing? I mean, I'm not complaining...." Jimmy laughed.

Thomas lunged at him and grabbed his face with his hands. He pressed his mouth against his. Possessive, hard and hungry. Jimmy was his. Jimmy was Thomas', so he kissed him until neither of them could breathe. 

~~~

Jimmy slowed by the mirror and wondered if it was obvious to anyone else he’d recently been snogged to the point he thought his legs were going to give out. He wasn’t sure if it was last night that changed Thomas' behavior, or something else. There'd been something in his expression when he finally got around to tying Jimmy’s bow tie. He hadn’t looked at him, straight at him anyway. His eyes kept darting toward him, then away again, and Jimmy thought he was going to say something. Maybe explain why Thomas had accosted him and the sudden weird distance. 

But instead, his hands smooth down Jimmy’s chest like they always did, only now with the new twist of his hand pressing against the points where Thomas' marks were on his skin. Something Jimmy didn't mind, in fact he loved it. 

But the lack of eye contact was bothering him. It worried him despite everything. He felt like Thomas gave him no cause to worry but.... Yes. The morning was different than their others, and there was a reason -- and he was going to have to wait out the day to find out why. 

“James, stop admiring your reflection and get to breakfast,” Carson scolded as he walked by him. 

“Yes, Mr. Carson,” he muttered and followed the man into the servant’s hall. Anna appeared to be missing, so he walked around the table and took the seat next to Thomas, rather than Alfred. Alfred shot him a look across the table, but no one else seemed to pay him any mind. He shrugged at Alfred to point out they might friends, but Thomas was his best mate. 

He glanced at Thomas and saw a second of a smile before it vanished under his Under Butler mask. He nudged their legs together, and Thomas cleared his throat and pressed his leg into his. Jimmy grinned and started loading up his plates. 

“Mr. Barrow, Miss Baxter, the Bates’ are out this morning. If the two of you would take care of His Lordship and Lady Mary, it would be much appreciated.” 

“Very well, Mr. Carson,” Thomas said.

Jimmy glanced at Thomas but saw he was looking across the table at Miss Baxter who was nodding at Mr. Carson. Jimmy shook his head and wondered when Miss Baxter would just make her life easier and give Thomas what he wanted without prompting. 

“Where are they Mr. Carson,” Thomas asked because the direct approach was part of his arsenal. No matter what people thought of him. 

“I haven’t the foggiest but if I did. It would not be my business,” Mr. Carson snapped. 

Thomas shrugged and glanced at Jimmy. He shook his head because he had no ideas about the Bates’. He had other things on his mind. He pressed his leg into Thomas’ again and leaned in, so their shoulder’s brushed when he spoke. “Smoke break after the family's breakfast?” 

Thomas stilled and didn’t turn as Jimmy pulled away. “Thomas,” he said. 

Thomas looked at him then, but it wasn’t a private glance it was a reminder.

“Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy corrected with a bit of an eye roll.

Thomas' mouth twitched which made his worry ease up, but it returned quickly as Thomas answered. “Not sure I can fit one in.” 

Jimmy frowned and turned to his toast. Something was off. He glanced at him a few more times, but he wasn’t glancing back. It felt off, but his leg was pressed against Jimmy’s. He felt a bit of nudge now and again. Maybe he was imagining things. Thomas was being careful. Jimmy knew he was worried about them giving anyone cause to look too closely. 

Though, Jimmy thought they risked that most when they sat at the piano. 

“I’ll be outside if you can,” Jimmy said.

“Maybe, Jimmy,” Thomas said with a glance at him.

Jimmy dared to give him a half smile. 

Thomas’ face softened for a fraction of a second before it went back to into Under Butler blankness. Jimmy fought down his grin, hiding it in his teacup and felt infinitely better if not completely satisfied. Something was wrong, and his impatience was already screaming. 

~~~

It was louder a few hours later as he leaned against the alcove wall and smoked a cigarette. He'd filched Thomas pack of cigarettes and lighter from the table before breakfast ended. Jimmy grinned remembering the amused spark in Thomas’ eyes, the shake of his head and the slight smile. It was getting easier to make Thomas smile — he hoped it lasted because he was pretty sure Thomas was working being better at resisting his charms better when they were in public. 

“Better be only in public,” Jimmy muttered to himself as he fiddled with Thomas’ lighter. He’d taken it because it meant if Thomas wanted to smoke he would have to track Jimmy down. He frowned and looked at the door to the Abbey. 

Jimmy shook himself. Thomas wasn’t avoiding him. He wasn’t free that was all. Something was a bit off, but it wasn’t necessarily bad, Jimmy thought. He touched his mouth and laughed a bit. Being grabbed and kissed soundly wasn’t a bad way to start his day. He hoped that might be his morning greeting for the foreseeable future. He thought Thomas’ kisses could be hungry before, but that kiss….

His whole body tingled, some parts more than others and he shifted a bit. Let the brick behind him dig against his back a bit. He sighed and looked at the sky. It was early in the day still — so many hours and hours. Night came slower and slower. It was the problem with looking forward to something. It made the wait and the inevitable boredom worse. He hated being bored. 

Thomas wasn’t coming. He snuffed out the cigarette and shoved the lighter back into his pockets. He may as well fiddle with the piano for the rest of his break. Soon enough it would be his turn at the upstairs door. Never his favorite duty — it dragged on and on. 

Everything dragged on. 

He walked inside and made his way into the servant’s hall. Miss Baxter was sitting at the table, working on hemming a skirt. Luckily she wasn’t using her machine — Jimmy couldn’t play the piano with the machine on, he found the motor would just distract him. She tensed as he walked behind her chair but then let out a relieved breath. 

“You okay, Miss Baxter?”

“Nothing, I just thought you might be Mr. Barrow.”

Jimmy slid onto the piano bench and gave her a long look. “Be easier to give him what he wants.” 

She looked at him for a long beat. “What exactly is that?”

“What?”

“I mean, what is it he wants? Truly?”

“Information,” Jimmy said slowly and wondered if she was daft. 

“To do what with it?”

Jimmy frowned and opened his mouth but closed it. 

Miss Baxter deflated again and turned back to her sewing. 

Jimmy studied her for a moment before turning to the piano. He felt weirdly tense. He was worried and not worried. And he wasn’t quite sure what to make of Miss Baxter, but something about her last question was bothering him — which meant now there were two things nagging at him about Thomas.


End file.
